Harry Potter and the Parseltongue Legend
by Obsession141
Summary: Harry discovers Parseltongue at a much younger age, and thus finds the magical world well before usual. Grey!Harry - Dark!Harry eventually. Powerful, slytherin, parentage, parseltongue, dark magic, Voldemort and more.
1. Chapter 1

It had been 3 months since the day Harry had the shock of his life during his daily chores, on his 10th birthday no less. Cleaning out the garden was always the worst of the ever-growing list, the hedges pricked him, the mud made him stink and the flies were a constant menace, but for Little Whinging, Surrey, that was about as bad as it got. Finding a snake among the prim hedgerows and perfected flower beds was a rare sight, and even then, these were your typical grass snakes. Perhaps 2 feet long, and not more than a few inches thick, they were nothing special, nor dangerous.

**3 months earlier.**

"I wish I could be like you.." Harry mumbled sullenly. The snake turned it's head in Harry's direction and glared at his face.

"_You are a Speaker, youngling."_

The shock was evident on Harry's face. A snake had turned to face him, and _spoken_ at him. Not your everyday occurrence, infact it was unheard of. Harry had never read about speaking snakes in library books, nor heard of them in junior bio class.

"_Young one, do not be afraid, you are a Speaker, your will is my command," _the snake... hissed. "_A speaker has not been talked of for many years, the last was a Slytherin Heir himself. I wonder what you are, youngling... ?"_

"Sorry, I must be mad, ignore me, I need to get on with my work. My aunt won't be happy if this isn't done before sundown," Harry whispered, stealing a glance at the kitchen window. Had Aunt Petunia seen this there'd have been hell to pay, not that Harry knew exactly how much. Unbeknownst to Harry, he was a wizard, and talking to snakes a wizard's trait. Yet, as he turned away from the snake, Petunia stormed outside screaming.

"That'll be nothing for you this evening boy! You've been out here hours and it's not yet finished, what have you been up to? You're filthy, get inside, and be careful to stand on the newspaper only! I've just cleaned this kitchen! Be grateful we're nice to you, or you'd find yourself sleeping in the shed!" Hah, thought Harry. I, not you, cleaned the kitchen, and the shed would be far more peaceful than that hellhole of a house. Still, he got up and collected his small shovel. Looking back, there was no snake.

"I knew it was crazy...Talking snakes... These chores are driving me mad, maybe Vernon will send me away, to a hospital... anywere is better than here," Harry muttered, whilst heading in.

**Present time.**

Just two days after that chance first meeting, Harry had his crazy illusions cemented firmly in reality after the snake had spoken to him again. Over the few weeks gone, the snake had become a common fixture in the garden, having told Harry mice were constantly at the flower beds, eating seeds, and so he was hunting well. He'd also said that being in the presence of a speaker was an honor, whatever that was, but the snake had said no more on the subject for days now. More often than not, the odd pair would merely talk about the weather, or on occasion the Dursleys and their ways. After explaining the concept of chores, Harry saw the snake's attitude take a puzzling sharp dive, and could only be resolved as anger.

"_I don't understand. Chores are chores, these things need doing Aunt Petunia says. Besides, if I don't do them they... they might not let me have any food tonight, and I'm hungry Zak._" Zak was Harry's pet name for this common grass snake, after the snake denied having a name already. Zak had no opinion on any name, and so was named after the one kid who had tried to become Harry's friend until Dudley and his gang had ran him off, for good.

"_Young Speaker, this is not right. Servant work is for servants, and you are a speaker, this work is unfit for you."_

"_This is how it's always been! As much as I hate it and them... If I don't do it, I won't be eating tonight, or any other night I don't do my work! You understand?_" Harry's temper had errupted. Talking to a snake was sometimes hard work; they didn't understand the concept of relying on someone else for food. When a snake hungered, it hunted and fed. If only it was that simple for me, Harry had thought.

After burning Dudley's breakfast one saturday morning, Harry was sent outside to work without any. Tending to the garden was physical work, and with no food nor energy, difficult and time-consuming. I never see any other people my age doing this, Harry thought. I'm treated horribly by my Aunt, and my Uncle when he's home. Dudley never does any of this. It's so unfair, he silently screamed internally. To make matters worse, Zak had been missing for two days, and it appeared this would be a third. Zak didn't add anything significant to Harry's day, but as odd as a talking snake was, Harry had learnt to accept it and had come to depend on Zak's presence for the one being that did not despise him. Not having that one sane conversation a day was starting to take it's toll on Harry's mood, and he'd very nearly screamed at his Uncle one evening when he was denied use of the bathroom so Dudley could sit in the bath longer. That'd have been a serious punishment, but something the snake had said weeks previous had come rushing back just in time - _"Hide your anger with them Harry, they don't care for it, and the effort you expend in hating them could better be used." _ Zak hadn't expanded on that, even after vigorous questioning as to what exactly he should be spending what little energy he had on. Still, after almost a month of talking to a snake of all things, it appeared working in the garden was going back to old and boring.

How wrong he was. Zak hadn't forgotten about Harry, nor would he give up free mice so easily. Snakes often breed tight-knit communities, and Zak knew more than he was letting on regarding Harry. Zak knew he was no magical snake, but he did know some snakes who were. At a storage factory just outside Little Whinging, the largest snake of the building was a magical Oakland Cobra who'd arrived by mistake from Australia. The Oakland Cobra was over three times longer than Zak, and rarely ventured further than the warehouse and surrounding fields. Other snakes often stayed near the cobra, it was a natural leader. It's magical heritage allowed it to sense humans well before any non-magical snake, and his venom was much more potent to deal with them. Along with hardened scales, much more resistant than your average snake, this cobra was king. Zak knew he was not fit for a speaker's familiar, but the Oakland was, he just had to convince him to leave the warehouse and come to Harry. Speakers were rare, and had he not seen it with his own eyes and heard it himself, even he might not believe one existed here.

**8 Days later.**

It was during his typical pruning of the flowerbeds that he first heard it. That russle of leaves that announced Zak's usual arrival, but it was too much to hope. Zak had been gone for over a week now, little chance of him returning, Harry thought. He was wrong.

"_Young speaker, I have returned."_

"_Where the hell have you been, I thought you were dead, eaten or stepped on or mowed by nextdoor's grass cuter or..._" Harry had just noticed the longer, thicker, dark metallic grey snake infront of Zak, slithering towards him cautiously. This new snake was... Scary. The light glistened on it's scales eerily, it's eyes a deep black that seemed to drill right into you, and it's mouth big enough to wrap around your wrist with fangs sharp enough to maim and injure. Had he not spent a month talking to a snake, Harry would have been running in the opposite direction at this point, chores done or not done. Nothing Petunia could say, nor Vernon could yell, was worth a showdown with... that thing.

"_Do not be cautious, young one. Do you really speak our tongue?" _The cobra hissed.

Harry steeled himself, and spoke._"I am a speaker, yes. So I can talk to all snakes? It's odd that all snakes can talk to a speaker, but that there is very few speakers according to Zak. Who are you?"_

"_You know by now that we do not name ourselves, I have been told this much by the one you refer as Zak. Zak is a common snake, I am not. Harry, I am a magical snake. I have the ability to bond to a speaker, and you are the only speaker I have ever met. When Zak told you Speakers were rare, he did not say why, and it is time you knew. Only witches and wizards have ever spoken to snakes, at for hundreds of years only one family has shown the ability. You are a Slytherin Harry, and you are a wizard._

Harry was gobsmacked. Not just one, but two talking snakes, one proclaiming to be magical and, he, Harry, servant of the Dursleys, was supposedly a wizard. Well, he'd seen wizards on tv when the Dursleys left him alone, and while the tricks were cool, Harry was always clever enough to work out that they weren't real, and how they were done. He knew magic wasn't real.

"_There is no such thing as wizards, I've seen them on tv and they're fakes! What is happening? Why can I talk to snakes?" _Harry's temper was rising. He'd have a rough few days with Dudley, a headache from Aunt Petunia's yelling, and was hungry and sweating in the heat of the sun. _"Tell me what's happening, or go away! Talking to snakes is stupid, I'm stupid! Is this a joke from the Dursleys? Vernon always calls me a freak, did he do this?" _Harry was nothing short of angry. _"I won't have anymore of it, I'm not a FREAK!" _Harry slammed his clenched fists down to the ground, just infront of the two snakes. He was only kneeling in the mud, it didn't hurt, but the flowerpot Harry was working with before Zak and his companion appeared shattered. Into hundreds of tiny little pieces, instantly.

"_That, Harry, was magic. Magic fueled through emotion," _The grey hissed.

* * *

Ok, first time writing a fanfiction story. Not sure if my writing style suits this type of work, so let me know what you think. Any reviews at all help me, and will give me some motivation to write this story, if there is any interest. I've found FF lacks many stories that deal with parseltongue, and I think it's heavily overlooked in the books and on FF, and this is my attempt to rectify that. This is a short chapter, just to see how it goes. Should expect chapters to be 4000-5000 words after this. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Just a note I forgot in the last chapter, for those who didn't realise. Parseltongue is always going to be italicized. It'll always be within "-" as normal speech, just italicized as well.

* * *

Things had changed in the Dursley household in little over two weeks. Little that Harry had known, the Dursleys were extremely scared of snakes and even more so at his ability to speak with them. At the will of the Oakland he'd introduced both him and Zak to the Dursleys, along with his knowledge of his wizarding ancestry and his parents, one evening shortly after Vernon had returned, and the new head of the house was apparent to all – Not Harry, the Oakland.

Currently holed up within Harry's pitiful excuse for a bedroom, newly acquired with very little persuasion necessary thanks to the snakes, they argued back and forth. The Oakland was persistant.

"_You cannot name me yet Harry, giving Zak a name was fine for he is not a magical snake, I've explained this to you. Magical... Pets... Are not pets. We are often called familiars, a wizard's familiar. This is termed when a wizard bonds to an animal at the will of both human and animal. It is my desire to bond with you Harry, you need only express your will to do so and we shall. Only once I bond will I be granted a name, which I believe is not chosen but...Found."_

"_Ok, go over this again. What'd happen with the bond? What do I need to do? What happens to me?"_ Harry was frantic. Bonding with a snake merely weeks after finding you are not only a wizard, but a wizard with an extremely rare talent to speak with snakes was a frightening prospect to anyone, not least a ten year old child.

"_The bonding is not pleasant Harry, for you. You must share your blood, I must share my venom. It's not as simple as that though. The sharing must be done with a bite directly to your bloodstream. Your forearm will suffice. It'll be painful, although clearly the venom will not kill you, but in this one instance make you stronger. Our connection will be stronger, we'll feel faint emotions from the other... And... Your parselmagic will... Enhance." _

The Oakland had finally dropped the hint. He could feel the faint traces of this wizard's magic, and new he'd soon be educated in it. All speakers had access to Parselmagic, the true talent of a parseltongue. Stronger, raw and powerful, parselmagic was a talent to envy, and those who had mastered it over the millenia had always been notable witches and wizards, for some reason or another. Feeling the core of a ten year old was rare enough, and the Oakland knew he'd be strong. A magical core expanding already, without use of magic, and ofcourse, this one was from the line of Slytherin himself. A magical snake wanted the strongest master he could have, just as a wizard would want the strongest familiar. The Oakland wanted this one, very much. If he could start his training in parselmagic now, he'd surely be the familiar of a very strong wizard for many centuries.

Harry was deliberating quietly. He was anxious to bond, but deep down he knew he wanted it. These snakes had changed his life in very little time at all. He felt comfortable with them, he felt wanted and needed, things he had never felt with the Dursleys, and things a small child always craves. Even deeper, perhaps, he wanted to be strong, he wanted to stop people hurting him like the Dursleys did. He wanted to be the predator, not the prey. Consciously, these thoughts never reached the surface, but they would, in the far future.

"_Can...Can this be done now? I mean... Snakebites need hospital treatment, and you know there's no way the Dursleys will take me now. They'd rather I died from it I think..."_

The snake hissed in anger – the Dursleys treatment of the Speaker always raised his ire. _"Yesss, it can be done now. Recall Speaker, I told you the venom will not kill but make you stronger. You will have to withstand the pain, which will be considerable, but not for long. You are a speaker, the ability comes from your blood. Slytherin blood. The venom will mix with your blood, and remain. It won't damage you. You can also start training now, Speaker. Parselmagic is untracable to all but fellow Speakers, you can keep it hidden and grow, grow stronger and stronger. Now is the time Speaker, the hour is late, you can sleep for the moon's duration after the bite, I will remain and make sure you are not disturbed. By the sun's light you will have passed the pain, and your blood will have mixed with the venom. We will have 11 moons to train, I assure you Speaker, those who bear parselmagic are never weak, you'll never be underfoot again."_

Here goes nothing, Harry thought. If my ancestors did this, I want it too. I want to be a part of the family I no longer have, he'd thought. You'll find it a common trace amongst orphans, wanting to be 'like' their real parents in some way. Just a small connection, perhaps playing an instrument their mother could play, or a sport their father enjoyed. Harry was no different, except instead of music and sports, they shared snakes, and their tongue.

"_We can do it, we'll bond. You've changed my life in a few weeks, you've changed the Dursleys, you've changed me. You've introduced me to a part of my I never knew i'd lost, and now I feel like you're part of that. If I'm a wizard, I want to be a wizard... now. How... How do we do it? Just a b-bite and that's it?" _asked Harry. He was nervous. Actually, he was scared. Anyone would be in the same situation. He'd seen the Oakland's fangs when he'd hissed at Vernon the day after being brought into 4 Privet Drive, and he now remembered them in all their glory. Long, thin, and sharp. He also knew that the small bulbous roots of the teeth were not for show, they contained little more than poison.

"_Just a bite speaker. For this magic, there is no fancy words, no long rituals. The venom and the blood Speaker, that is all that is needed. The magic is within your blood." _The Oakland was... Excited. You could hear it in his voice. His speech was overly sibilant, and his head was raised off the ground. He directed Harry to sit on the edge of the bed, and gave one last instruction – When you feel the pain, fall backwards to your bed, hold your tongue and retreat to your mind. The excrutiating pain only lasted half a minute, while the venom was pumped round the body. After that, it was said to feel only as a mild flame within the veins for the remaining hours.

The Oakland also knew that this was the right move for both Speaker and snake. Wizards were steeped in tradition, never moving forward, never progressing. Only the strongest wizards became leaders, and only the strongest wizards made progress. All the rest were born as told, lived as told and died as their ancestors before them. Thinking back, to tales he had heard passed around the snake gatherings, the last parseltongues had not used the magic of snakes, most of the knowledge lost or hidden away, and back beyond that, those who did know of and use parselmagic were the rulers and leaders of the wizarding world.

The bite was silent. Harry had done as told, sat on the end of the bed, ready to fall right down the middle and not move. To say he was scared was an understatement, he was terrified. The Oakland didn't waste any time, and like a true viper shot forward, impaled the underside of Harry's forearm with his fangs and withdrawn almost immediately.

As predicted, he fell. The pain was exquisite. Harry's thoughts had no tone, no path, just agonising pain. Far worse than any mental torture from living with the Dursleys, and far worse than breaking his ankle at 7 years old. The wound was small, just two small, raised, red points almost halfway up his forearm, but under the skin he burnt. True to his mental command, he somehow kept silent. Had either of the Dursleys come upstairs, there'd be hell to pay. Vernon would've tried to kill the snake, and Vernon was not of the Slytherin bloodline, assumably resulting in one dead Dursley. Petunia would've ran screaming bloody murder for all the world to hear, and this was something to be kept quiet. Snakes knew that, that which a ten year old doesn't. Snakes knew the reality of the world.

"_A-aa-aahh". _Harry ached. The sun was shining through the faded curtains, already giving off some comforting warmth.

"_How do you feel Speaker? It is over, the bond is complete. Can you feel me, in your mind? You are here in mine, we are bonded for life." _The Oakland could only be described as happy.

The Oakland was also right. Harry could feelthe change. His chest and body felt... Warmer? And his head felt... Clearer. He did not realise it, but he'd grown. Not physically, but mentally he'd taken on some of the Oaklands maturity.

"_Come to me. Come to me Esurio." _Esurio? Harry wondered where that'd come from, he'd never heard it before! He hadn't even questioned it, it'd just come out of his mouth. The Oakland had a name.

"_Master, I shall treasure the name, for the utterance of it shall always remind me of your strength to hold silence during the pain. Esurio, it means 'to hunger' in latin, the language of most spellcasting. The name is apt, Master, I hunger for strength and power through you. I can feel your magic since the bond Master, i'll grow longer and thicker, and more resistant to spells." _For Esurio, this was the beginning of something new just as much as it was for Harry. Whilst Harry had no life of luxury with his last remaining blood relative and her husband, Esurio hadn't been living in gluttony and comfort in the area. Never in his wildest thoughts had he ever imagined meeting a speaker and becoming part of the magical world, but now he had, he couldn't wait. Snakes bonded with parseltongues grew with their master, he would eventually become a king snake in the eyes of all the others.

For Harry, now that the burning had gone and he only felt a little rough, only one thing seemed to have changed. Whereas Esurio would previously address him as Speaker, he now used a new vocative that Harry never imagined he'd ever be called – Master. He didn't like it. Esurio felt like a friend, a best and only friend.

"_I just realised Esurio... Why do you call me master? I'm not your master, and I actually kind of prefered speaker..." _Harry mumbled the last part. Being called speaker by Esurio was a constant reminder of how his life of chores, labour and mental torture at the hands of the Dursleys had changed, and it was a small ray of hope that the magical world he belonged to was something more, something better for him.

"_With your permission Master, I can call you whatever you wish. It is suggested throughout known history that most bonded snakes address their bonded as master, since the wizard is the stronger of the bond." _The snake curled up onto Harry's neck after speaking.

Harry paused a little before asking_"Then call me anything but master, that's not how it is with us, and I don't like history in school much. Speaker... sounded cool... can you call me that?" _

Esurio picked up on his tone. Hopeful, but with slight nerves that his request would be denied. It angered Esurio that his bonded had gone through such a life that simple requests of those close to him were asked in fear of rejection, and it ashamed him that his master was so withdrawn and shy. He would work to change both with the time they had left – A sudden realisation hit Esurio – They had bonded, Harry's parselmagic would have been 'awakened' by the bonding, and that they could start now. Parselmagic needed no wand, just the power of the snake in the blood would suffice. Although much more difficult to learn than standard magic with a wand that Harry would encounter early on in education, he knew with time his bonded would manage, and perhaps even excel. Not many ten year old wizards had active cores swirling within their depths, no matter how small. Nor did they have bonded magical familiars, or even exulted bloodlines of powerful wizards decended from foundations of wizarding society. The magnitude of the bond was huge, and Esurio was just beginning to realise it all.

"_Yes, Speaker, I shall address you as such, it exemplifies our rare bond just as well, or perhaps better than master does. But Speaker, you are rested and well and the bond is complete. It is time to start your training with parselmagic, you must start now, as early as possible. Parselmagic is tough to learn, and tougher to master, but do so and you will be the envy of wizarding kind." _Envy...Or Enemy? He'd left that out, he'd told Harry of nothing regarding parseltongue in the wizarding world other than the use of it from the Slytherin line and it's rarity. He'd not even explained the Slytherin importance, for fear he'd have to explain how parseltongue was considered by the largest populations in wizarding areas, and scare the child into not using it for fear of rejection, a fear he already knew well and truly. Yet another thing to work on before the moons run out and his guided education started.

Esurio spoke again. "_Sit before me Speaker, cross your legs, and fold your arms loosely within your lap. Relax and shut your eyes. The first part of parselmagic for a wizard is perhaps the most crucial – Being able to draw from the snake within your blood."_

Harry sat and tried to relax. It wasn't particularly difficult, he'd had a rough night and was still a little sleepy.

"_Focus on your heartbeat in the center of your chest, and feel it pumping your blood around your body. Find that flow to your hands and focus on it. For now, you need only feel that flow and focus it with no intent," _Esurio instructed Harry.

For ten years old, Harry was no weak wizard. After merely quarter of an hour, Esurio could feel that Harry had succeeded in focusing the flow and enhancing his awareness of it.

"_You have it," _whispered Esurio. _"Now, try and strengthen that flow you have. Recall me, my scales, the texture, the colour. Recall my fangs and the venom you felt during the night. Recall that which makes me a snake that makes you a snake through our bond, and focus those feelings into the flow you hold."_

Harry had it. Esurio had said but one thing that helped the most – Those fangs. Ever since seeing them the first time he'd seen Esurio in the back garden of the Dursleys, when Zak had returned after his week missing, he's remembered the long sharp fangs. Focusing intently on the fangs, he slowly nodded to Esurio.

This was it for Esurio. His master's first attempt at parselmagic, at ten years old. Should the wizard succeed, he was destined for glory and beyond.

"_Speaker, while focusing your intent into the flow, consider something simple that can be done here and now, noiselessly and quickly. Let go of the flow without stopping it, by detaching your thought from it, and focus only on that simple action. Speak your action, speak the intention that will carry out said action. Direct your hand towards your goal,and focus solely and completely," _Esurio hissed, quietly with growing anticipation.

Any ten year old boy can tell you the same – At some point, they have wished they could fly. This was reflected in Harry's very next thought. Directing his palm inwards, facing himself, eyes clenched shut tightly and the snake's voice reverberating in his mind, he spoke.

"_Rise."_

He felt it long before he opened his eyes. He felt the floor recede beneath him. He was a wizard, it's all real. This, for Harry, was the start of his real life.

* * *

Few things -

1) I've finished a preliminary plan for the next three years, this one before he starts school and the first two years of school. The story is looking like it's going to be LONG. If you don't like long stories with convoluted plots, this probably isn't for you. Keep reading by all means, but please don't complain later on!

2) I started this story at a bad time, exam time. I'm sure many of you know what exam weeks are like, stressful. My last exam is on the 21st of June, so until then updates will be irregular and smaller I would imagine. After that, well, 10 weeks of summer to write away.

3) I really enjoy writing this. I've read a LOT of H.P fanfiction, and I knew it was time to write my own, and I'm enjoying it greatly so far. Being in control is great! But I'm not going to write for just myself, so massive thanks for all the people putting alerts/favourites already, and for the basic reviews. Keep it all coming, and i'll keep updates flowing as soon as I can!

Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Three months had passed almost exactly from the day Harry succeeded in that first attempt at magic, and what a difficult three months they'd been. All the factors considered, a ten year old is still going to be exhausted by repeated magical use, and exhausted he was.

He had a strong core, that much was clear when he'd attempted a summoning charm in parseltongue, only to be too tired and say the words in English, which had Esurio whining at him about not eating enough food and getting enough sleep until the small paperweight stolen from downstairs moved enough to fall off the cupboard and land right beside Esurio. Nothing particularly spectacular, but it was something. He also had the strength from a shared bond, little good that did when his eyes would not stay open nor his arm stay up after hours of failure after failure.

After that first success, Harry had thought it'd all be easy, and he couldn't have been more wrong. For almost two weeks directly afterwards, he'd felt totally stupid saying words in hissing sounds and having a grand total of nothing happening. They'd tried summoning, moving, transfiguring, more charms, a shield that only parseltongues could use and experiments on Esurio to no avail. It wasn't till Harry had gotten angry and attempted to fly again that they'd succeeded for a second time, and inadvertently discovered his problem. He was able to project his parselmagic inwards, to affect himself, but had absolutely no success on projecting outwards. Esurio had put this down to age, he was still closer to ten than eleven, although not by much.

For the weeks after, they focused half their time on training, more of the same, such as levitating himself, and half their time on a meditation of sorts, trying to increase his ability to sense greater amounts of parselmagic within his blood – which was vital to succeeding at projecting outwards, Esurio had implied. This had yielded little to no results, no ten year old can sit still seemingly doing nothing for too long. Esurio had almost given it up as a bad job, and put it off, but Harry had recognised the dissapointment in his voice and insisted they continue.

As it happens, Harry had taken to doing some chores again. Without being asked, nor forced, by the Dursleys, and they'd been so surprised by it that Petunia had taken to speaking with him for the first time in weeks.

"And what do you think you're doing in my cupboards boy?" She'd said, haughtily.

"I'm just taking a small break Aunt, I was putting away the dry pots from the dishwasher. You used to make me do this, you don't mind do you?" Harry was polite, to say the least. He'd changed things with the introduction of snakes, but the months between had been stale and awkward. No need to emphasise that, he just wanted to be left alone.

"Fine boy, but don't you break anything! I heard that paperweight smash last month! Yes I know where it went, I know you took it! Don't you think otherwise boy!"

She was getting worked up, a warning to Harry to ignore her, in the hope she'd leave. He turned back to keep sorting the pots, and thankfully she took his unspoken advice. As small as the encounter had been, it was the first steps towards Harry being allowed back into the house each summer, the small string bridge between he and the Dursleys that were family.

Over time, Harry and Esurio had spoken more of what the snake called his 'guided education', which Harry took to mean school. Usually after the practice sessions, they'd sat exhausted and somehow gotten onto the subject. According to Esurio, they had roughly seven moon turns left, seven months in human speak. He'd received a letter, accepting him into a school called Hogwarts, bu Esurio was quick to point out that there was other schools abroad that Harry should consider. Acceptance to Hogwarts was once considered an honour, many ages past, but now he'd said it was as common as muck, and everyone got in. This was the prime difference between Hogwarts and the two mainland European schools – They had entrance criteria, namely exams and tests.

Esurio was straight to the point, as usual._"Have you thought anymore on which institution you would attend, Speaker? I have told you much of Hogwarts, and of Durmstrang, and all that I know of Beauxbatons, as little as it was. You do not have long to make your choice, for it will take some months to confirm attendance with either of the foreign schools."_

"_You said that my ascendants all went to Hogwarts right? That most of them studied abroad after leaving Hogwarts, I can just do the same. If my father and his family went to Hogwarts I should too, will I be able to take you there?" _Harry had asked. Those where his prime conditions - Going to the same school the family he wanted but never had went, and taking Esurio.

"_I think you shall be fine Speaker, you told me the letter says cats, owls or toads only, but Hogwarts is an old school with old traditions – Familiars are considered a part of their... Master. No-one will contest my being there with you," _Esurio had reassured. _"Moreover, Speaker, I want to be there with you. Hogwarts holds many secrets that we shall endeavor to find, and the seven long years we spend there are crucial to becoming a strong wizard. You are of Slytherins' bloodline, and will be in his house... Perhaps it's time I told you more of Hogwarts, Speaker..."_

Harry had been badgering Esurio for more information on Hogwarts ever since they day he'd heard of it. School for Harry had been a nightmare since nursery, he was the same age as Dudley, and always in the same class. Doing better than Dudley meant Vernon and Petunia would shout their throats raw at him and send him to his cupboard with no dinner, and the one time he'd told his teachers that Dudley was bullying him Vernon had locked him in their for two days. He'd quickly learnt to do badly, and to hide away at all times he wasn't expected in lessons. The obvious downside of this was his teachers getting impatient with him, he couldn't win.

Esurio coiled up his ever-lengthening body, and lifted his head to Harry's eye level._"There exists four houses within Hogwarts. Each one has it's own dormitaries, it's own common rooms and it's own head of house. You're sorted by means of a hat that belonged to one of the founders into one of these four houses. They are Gryffindor, said to be the house of the brave and bold - and incidentally, this house is the founder to whom the hat belongs. There is Hufflepuff, said to be the house of loyalty and friendship. For many ages past, Hufflepuff has been seen by the others as the weakest house, where one may find themselves if they do not fit into the other three. We have Ravenclaw, the house of intelligence. Ravenclaw takes the most studious and smart children, and any house wishing to be top for each year is certain to contend with Ravenclaw. Finally, and perhaps most importantly for you, young Speaker, is Slytherin. Slytherin house was founded by it's namesake, your ancestor, Salazar Sytherin, at the very start of the school's rich history. The hat sends all those who are ambitious to Slytherin, however the school applies other traits to Slytherins, making them the 'hated' house of Howarts. You don't need to worry about that for now, but I will tell you more closer to the time, Speaker."_

Harry was spellbound. He wanted this, he wanted to be part of this. It was hard to believe that in half a year, he'd be off to spend the next seven years of his life becoming a wizard, yet at the meager age of ten, he knew he was going to give it his all. He wanted to be someone, to be strong and to be like his ancestors.

Esurio had taken a small break, swung his tail out a little and continued. _"There is more, Speaker. From your first year, you shall take classes divided by magical art, such as transfiguration, charms, potions and defence against the dark arts. There is also many electives, some of which are much more difficult than the standard offerings, ancient runes and spell creation among them. Most classes are shared between two houses at the same time, you'd best be hoping Slytherin have their classes with Ravenclaws. Whilst the houses look down on Slytherin in general, intelligence is respected no matter from which house you come."_

"_Hogwarts is also the largest magical library in the country, and students have access to almost all of it, bar a small restricted section. The magical talents you can learn from within are many, and you'd be wise to do so. I imagine not much has changed within the recent decades, and so you will find many Slytherin and Ravenclaw students in the library, whilst Gryffindors scrape passes and consider that fine. Since you do not have access to a magical library, you ought to familiarise yourself with Hogwarts' as soon as you can."_

While Esurio had been talking, Harry had thought up a dozen questions, but he'd forgotten them all at the prospect of such a large library. He'd spent a large part of his previous schooling hidden in libraries, knowing Dudley and his gang wouldn't be seen dead in one, and during these times he'd found treasures hidden on the shelves, but unlike others his age who liked fiction and storytales, Harry liked science fiction and educational books. Perhaps it was the utter revulsion of Dudley that led him to such academic pursuits at such a young age, he didn't know.

Esurio started up again. _"Young Speaker, there is more than just classes and education at Hogwarts. There is a multitude of clubs and sports that you should engage in. It is too easy to fall unfit within a boarding school, where everything is within two minutes walk from your bed, and where the elves feed you all at will. You'll see when you arrive that Quidditch is the most popular sport, and while I know you've never been particularly sporty, you should always consider your options. Your desire to excel at all you do streches beyond the classroom. But now I tire. So much talking is tiresome, and it is warm for the season, perfect for hunting. Practice some more with your parselmagic, Speaker, I shall return when the sun sets."_

He slithered out of the door and down the stairs. Esurio knew the way out of the house without a door being opened for him, and moved towards it. Had the Dursleys known they had a hole in the piping in their kitchen they'd be sure to fix it up quickly, so he took extra care not to be seen, which had been getting more and more difficult as he grew.

Harry had listened to what the snake had said with rapt attention, and it had taken a few minutes to break from the spell of daydreaming to realise Esurio's last instruction – Parselmagic. After their discovery that he struggled to project his parselmagic outwards, he'd focused on strengthening his ability to use it within, on himself. Esurio had begun to teach him useful things, and while hovering off the floor was fun, it was practically useless without a lot more training and direction. Small internal transfigurations were easily done, although a little more difficult to maintain, and Harry loved doing them. Transfiguring his eyes into snake eyes was perhaps the easiest, although totally useless. Snake eyes saw worse than his own did without glasses. A little more difficult, and vastly more interesting, was transfiguring his tongue into a snakes tongue, granting him the superior sense of smell that snakes have with their tongues. The roast chicken Petunia was preparing smelt absolutely delicious, only Vernon's dire stench of sweat had ruined that. After that, he was careful to only use the snake's tongue when Vernon had not just finished painting.

Esurio liked to push him further with his Parselmagic, but he had made it clear not to feel dissapointment with failure, he was only ten afterall. This headstart was immensely useful, and training his parselmagic was going to be crucial to succeeding in his dreams, but there was only so much he could do at this age. Even so, each time he practiced his parselmagic, he tried to project outwards, even if just for a few minutes.

"_Ok, think outwards. Think pushing it down my arm and through the palms of my hands..." _Harry muttered to himself.

Whenever he attempted to use his parselmagic, he was always sat, cross-legged, in the center of his room, facing the door, and so he was now. After the influx of all the new information Esurio had given him, he felt more connected to the wizarding world than he had ever before. He knew more about one of his ancestors, perhaps the most famous one of all. He had more to think about regarding Hogwarts, and he knew some of what his future held. All in all, he was ecstatic. Pushing forward with his palms opened but facing the floor, he _felt_ the magic stronger than ever. Recalling the name of his family patriarch, Salazar Slytherin, gave him a rush of strength in his blood. Salazar was the founder of the Slytherin house legacy, and father of his father's father and so on right back through one thousand years. He was a part of that legacy, and right there in that moment, he knew he wanted to live it all. He wanted to feel what Salazar had felt, he wanted to be as famous as Salazar had been, and above all he wanted to be as powerful as Salazar had been.

Without noticing, magic, parselmagic, had begun to flow from his palms and fingers. Forming a small shape on the floor was a common-looking green snake, almost exactly the same colour as Zak had been, only smaller.

The snake turned towards Harry and hissed something unintelligible, and no sooner had Harry heard it, he'd dropped his concentration and he snake had dissapeared in a small formation of dark green smoke.

But not before Harry had seen it.

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Question for the readers - Would you prefer shorter chapters like these (2000-4000) words, posted more often, or longer (6000-10000) posted much less often? Let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

Time had passed in some sort of routine. Petunia would be the perfect housewife, Vernon the breadwinner of the family. Dudley would leave the house at midday when he rolled out of bed, and return sometime before midnight, off beating up kids and scaring shopkeepers no doubt. Harry did a few chores here and there, and in the process had even started a tentative yet mild friendly relationship with his aunt. Their bustling about the house invariantly meant they'd crossed paths regularly. After Harry'd given his opinion on the table layout, without being asked, and his aunt had found she'd actually agreed with him, they'd both come to some sort of unspoken compromise regarding civility whilst Vernon was out of the house.

Esurio was the one exception to the routine. He'd come and go as he pleased now that Harry had the basics of parselmagic down, and was probably pushed as far as he could go at this age and under these circumstances. That Esurio had grown was obvious in his apetite alone. Harry recalled the days after he'd first bonded, Esurio could live on a single hunt a day with ease. Now he was eating three or four mice a day, and admitted to having eaten a few grass snakes, and perhaps most shockingly, someone's pet cat he'd found asleep in the fields. Harry had been somewhat disgusted at that.

"_A cat? A cat? Why would you eat a CAT? Were you seen? If anyone sees you... They'll call the police!" _Harry's voice had risen, still a high pitch at his age. He'd been genuinely worried about losing his snake, who was clearly a best friend as well as a familiar.

Esurio sought to soothe his concerns._"Fear not, speaker. The fields are unkept, the grass is long and hides me well. The cat will simply never be found, and cannot be connected to you, or I, at all. As to why... I'm growing in size and power, in relation to the bond, and to you practicing magic. Along with that, I need greater sustenance, more food you would say. At Hogwarts, this will be no problem, but I havn't told you why – the forbidden forest. The forest is huge. It covers the entirety of the island that Hogwarts itself does not cover, and leaves no land left to the sky. The forest holds many animals, many dangers and even more prey for those who'll take it. Should that fail, and my attendance at Hogwarts accepted, you can feed me meat from the hall in which you shall feast. You have nothing to worry about, I can take care of myself. Remember, Speaker, I am not necessarily a pet to be looked after. You will understand more of this concept when you join the wizarding world."_

It had worked, to some small degree of success. After seeing Esurio every day for months now, he was used to him, but after thinking it over, he realised no sane human would attempt to tackle a snake his size and look. Picking up a foot long common grass snake is one thing, attempting to pick up a three feet long metallic-scaled cobra a very different endeavour. Esurio was right – the grass would hide him enough that there should be no problems, but this whole escapade had been the first time Harry realised his familiar was not a little snake anymore, and he would never be that little snake again. Fleetingly, he'd begun to daydream, whilst Esurio was quiet.

Walking down a crowded street, although the people were all blurred – he had no idea what your average witch or wizard looked like – they moved for him. A snake coiled around his shoulders, four, perhaps even five feet long, it's body drooping down his back, but it's tail raised above his left shoulder. He wore a powerful suit, the type Vernon's non-obese associates like to wear when visiting about business. His glare was confident, bordering arrogant, and his posture demanded respect. But the look in the faceless beings was not of fear, but gratitude and admiration. That was how his famous ancestors were treated. He'd never been looked at like this once in his entire lifetime, but he craved it, from almost anyone at this point.

Then Esurio reminded Harry of why he'd waited up this late. Esurio was like to appear at all times of day and night, he slept when he wanted and never adhered to human definitions of night and day. Tonight, Harry had waited up especially. Subconsciously, he'd waited up because he knew sharing his success with Esurio would mean someone was _proud_ of him. That was another feeling he'd never had before in his life, pride, and just like the respect in his daydream, he wanted to be proud.

Seeing he had Esurio's absolute attention, he began to focus on the same things that had brought about his last success. His ancestry, his bloodlines' legacy and his dreams of strength, power and pride. Repeating the movements, he pushed his palms to the floor and muttered to himself. _"Summon a snake. Summon a snake. Summon a snake." _He felt that familiar rush down his arm and into his palm, and knew he'd succeeded.

Esurio was ecstatic. Ten years old, and able to control parselmagic, albeit extremely small amounts. Parselmagic was raw and unrestricted. This level of parselmagic was akin to an eleven year old conjuring a stone. Conjuration wasn't particularly difficult, and was taught relatively young, perhaps thirteen to fourteen in education. The difference came from the higher limits. Due to restrictions and regulations built up over centuries, since the founding of the ministries of magic, common magic had grown more and more restricted and _safe_. Parseltongue and it's own magics were untouched and pure. A reasonable wizard with guidance may be taught to conjure a stone at the age of ten by his parents, and succeed after much practice, but that same reasonable wizard would never become anything without extra effort and motivation to study beyond the boundaries. Harry was not restricted in such manner, parselmagic stretched onwards, and the power was there to grab for those who could continue to master such difficult magical traits. Each success from Harry, regardless of what they were, further grew Esurio's hope that his master was the next wizard to change the world in some way.

He'd contemplated all this in silence, but he'd concluded something. _"Do it again, Speaker. I want to converse with the snake. Do not let go of his lifeforce after you have created him. Mastering this conjuration of snakes, and I mean truly mastering it, will benefit from the day you grasp it until the day you die, Speaker. Conjured snakes can be used for all kinds of tasks, and they will obey without question, for they are creations of your will. In time, when your magical core grows, and your skill in parselmagic can expand, you will be able to conjure different types of snakes for different purposes, but let us not get ahead of ourselves. Summon him again."_

Harry did as told. This was like exercising. The more you did it, the easier it got, until such a time it wasn't really exercise anymore because it had gotten _too_ easy. He'd conjured the snake, the same as each of the previous attempts, and not let go of the feeling it brought. He attributed that to the continued existance of the summon, and while he had no idea why, he was right. The snake remained.

Esurio looked it directly in the eyes, and spoke. _"I have a task for you, youngling. Smell the humans near us. Pick up the sharpest scent, that of the female, and find her. Memorise the colour she predominantly wears, and come back to me. Do you understand?"_

The small snake attempted to speak back, which came out as various hissing sounds that made no sense to Harry nor Esurio, but seemed concenting in nature, and a few seconds later confirmed as the snake moved slowly towards the gap under the door. Esurio quickly spoke to Harry.

"_Shut your eyes!" _he commanded. _"Once the snake leaves your sight, this will become very difficult indeed, because you have been using your sight as the only sense to tell yourself you have conjured a snake."_

Harry just looked confused. Esurio let out a sigh. Perhaps Harry was too young for this, he was pushing him very hard indeed for his age. Some form of disapointment must have shown on the snake's face, for Harry's ability to interpret Esurio's mood was improving, and this one was fairly obvious, but he had no idea why.

"_I didn't say.. The first time I managed this, I had my eyes completely closed. I know the snake has been conjured long before I open them, I can... feel... it. I can feel the flow from my chest to my palm, and the.. it's hard to describe.. pressure.. that exudes from the center of my palm. The first time I did it I was so shocked that i'd done it I let go and the snake disappeared a second after I opened my eyes. This time, I can hold onto that pressure and I... know... the snake wil remain until I let go. Is that... right?" _The uncertainty in his voice was as obvious as it was on his face.

Esurio's mind was moving at a rapid rate. His master had skipped the process of switching from senses to mind to control his magic. Infact, it appeared he didn't even _know_ he could use his senses to will his magic into being. It was much easier, simply because humans can access each of their senses immediately and easily from a very, very young age. Skipping that was... mindblowing. It wasn't just a success, it was a phenomenal success, for his age. Esurio knew why it was. He was of the first bloodline, Slytherins. Everything came back to that. His successes, his reasons for success, his degrees of success. Slytherins' bloodlines... How strong they must have been, and how strong Harry must have the potential to be, Esurio didn't truly know.

The small summoned snake had long since left the room. Harry was sat, leaning against his bed, eyes closed and almost perfectly still. Esurio was coiled up as usual, facing Harry. It wasn't long until the heard the small snake returning, and apparently... grumbling...about something? A few seconds later and it was close enough to make out his mumblings... The small snake had struggled getting back up the stairs, they were too big for him! Esurio let out a long, harsh hiss that passed as vicious laughter for a snake, and had interrupted Harry. He knew at once that the snake would have vanished, but for all intents and purposes the test was a success. He instinctively knew how to progress now this milestone had been reached.

Esurio's voice was quiet, but excitable. Almost like a whisper, if you can imagine a snake whispering, but with a shaky quality that reflected his happiness._"Speaker, this... is what you must do now. While I am absent hunting or sleeping - or even whenever you have free time - summon a snake and set it small simple tasks. Remember that the snake is just your will shaped by your magic, and that with focus and enough strength, you cannot fail. If you do, try again. Your ability to focus is stronger than a natural ten year old because of our bond, and your magical strength exceeds any ten year old i'd ever have imagined. If you can build on your success with this ability a reasonable amount before we move for Hogwarts, you can have them do anything for you there, such a huge help, can't you see? Once you have mastered how to move their existence into your subconscious, they can be used as lookouts, guards, anything you can imagine!"_

Oh yes. Harry could imagine this very well. This was what his mind wanted that he didn't yet realise due to immaturity and naivety of the world. Abilities like these would gain him respect. Snakes guarding him, snakes summoning people he needed. He liked the idea very interrupted his thoughts again. _"For now, you should sleep. I can see this has taxed your energy, and by rights it should do, this is not simple magic for one of your age, and ofcourse it is late. Go to sleep now. You should know though, tomorrow we are leaving the house. Your family plan to leave you alone here while they attend to some important people, I know little more, this is only what I overheard passing through, but it allowed me to form my own plans. Now, sleep!"_

One of Esurio's new personality traits. Commands. Harry hated them, and loved them for a seemingly-freakish reason. No ten year old liked being bossed about, but for some reason, and Harry had not deciphered what this reason was, he imagined that this was how a mother would send him to bed, perhaps a little nicer than the snake though... He'd never had that, someone sending him to bed because he was tired and they cared. No, only Petunia or Vernon sending him to... bed... which had simply been his cupboard... because they wanted him out of their sight and they were done with him.

He was tired though, and he fell asleep content that he'd done what was asked, and he knew that inwardly, Esurio was proud of him, and ecstatic that he'd bonded with the snake, since they were both clearly benefitting from it.

Esurio had gone out again. He'd only returned from hunting before Harry had revealed his latest magical ability, but all the new progress had left him wanting a cool and quiet place to think. The night was still, very little wind, that which was blowing leaving a warm, gentle breeze behind, the type tha kept cold-blooded snakes cool and content, but not too cold. He'd eaten well earlier, and the cat was keeping him energized, the bigger meal that it was, so he didn't need to hunt again, meaning he could simply coil up and relax in a place of his choice.

Everything pointed towards one conclusion, which the snake thought more and more likely as the months passed. That Harry was of the Slytherin bloodline was incontestable. He'd proved it already with the ability to control his magic, that very rare a ten year old could. The raw nature of parselmagic usually meant that it took an older and more mature student, and Harry had completely broken that rule too. He'd spent many an hour thinking about what he knew of the Slytherin bloodline. Throught the ages, it had become murky, with many branches claiming they alone were of the main line, and much infighting between the same boasting branches, all to no avail. He knew from older magical snakes that over a decade ago there was a very powerful parseltongue, but the man's own snake had told the snake communities that he was raised by the Gaunts, which was a sub-branch of the Slytherin line from centuries back. Not only that, but the snake also knew that his master was a halfblood, born from the daughter of the Gaunt line and a non-magical human. Quickly, it occurred to Esurio that if Harry was of the main line, which he was growing more and more sure of every day, then he had the potential to be even stronger than the last parseltongue who'd claimed a Slytherin connection. He'd thought long and hard on this matter, and was apparently stuck. He knew no way of confirming if Harry was from the main line or not, and if not, who his real parents were.

What else had vexed him lately? Harry's continued education in parselmagic. Esurio had never been bonded before, unlike some old magical snakes he'd spoken to over the years, and didn't know half as much as they did regarding parselmagic. Harry was progressing fast, and he knew they still had slightly longer than four full phases of moonlight before they were to move to Hogwarts, and even then he had doubts that Hogwarts would have parselbooks, perhaps restricted or hidden but certainly not available for casual reading. He'd considered trying to find some other magical snakes, but there was two problems with that. Firstly, in this area that'd be a huge statistical improbability, and secondly, what was to say they knew anything either? As far as he was aware, most speakers had one and only one bonded snake in their life, the snake living far, far longer due to the bond. The rarity of speakers and the rarity of the knowledge he sought combined made him dread seeking more of that selfsame knowledge. But what to do? For now, he'd simply have to wait for more avenues to open, for both Harry and himself. Hogwarts in five months seemingly the next one.

Esurio stayed out in the fields behind Privet Drive till dawn broke. Mice liked to scurry about at dawn, and he was rapidly reminded of his hunger upon waking from his light sleep. He never truly slept outside, a snake was always more aware of it's surroundings and potential dangers, but he felt confident enough recently that he was the alpha predator of the area now. That was all thanks to Harry ofcourse. So was the increased ease of catching prey to eat. His venom paralysed anything small in a few seconds, nothing ever escaped anymore. Looking back before he met Harry, he knew he ate a lot better now. The bond truly was a gift for them both. He was lucky, though he did not believe in luck as a concept much. Fate sent him, the only magical snake in the area - and in the area by mistake at that – a speaker, and fate had sent the speaker to an area with a magical snake. He fleetingly recalled the small, non-magical snake that Harry had met first – Zak. Harry hadn't mentioned Zak since being introduced to Esurio. Zak just seemed so insignificant, which was probably why Esurio had eaten him a week later while Zak was sleeping. He hadn't told Harry incase he'd gotten upset over losing someone he'd once spent time speaking to, but so long as Harry didn't mention it, Esurio was apt to forget Zak had ever existed.

As Harry grew stronger, and as he himself grew greater and stronger, their ties to Privet Drive and this area were slowly snapping. Neither of them belonged here, and both were only here whilst awaiting the next chapter of their lives. Neither wanted to be here in the first place either, one thing in common between the bonded pair, and both wanted to leave for their own world.

The sun was rising now, and he started to slither back in the general direction of the Dursley house, absentmindedly thinking of the future.

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Ok guys, here's the next chapter. After taking into account some reviews and my own thoughts, I will start doing longer chapters, especially as the story is moving towards first year at Hogwarts. This one is similar size to the previous, most of it was written when I published the last chapter, and it had the natural ending at the dawn you've just read about.

I apologise if any of you don't like this concept of the snake being such a huge point of view character like this, but unlike other stories, and perhaps my reason for writing this is because I wanted to do a piece like this, with Harry being closest to a snake rather than a person. He'll still have plenty of human interaction, as much as you would normally expect anyway. For this chapter, Esurio was the perfect point of view to start tying things up regarding Harry's education in beginning parselmagic and tying up the privet drive ends, because, and i'll drop a little cliffhanger/spoiler here, he won't be returning!

To the reviewer simply signed as "Jake" - Massive thanks. Thats the exact kind of review that I need, and yours was eery, you think along very similar lines that I do. Without giving too much away, we think very similar regarding Hermoine. She'll be in the story, but I think you'll like the direction I take that arc ;-)  
Same with Eyesight, similar thoughts as mine!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway. I've got an exam Thursday morning (dreading this one, the hardest of all exams I'll sit this summer) and then a two week break before my next lot of tests, so i'm confident I can keep the updating at a decent pace! Being an avid reader myself, I know everyone likes fast updates.


	5. Chapter 5

There was no explanations for it. Harry was bored. The summer had been long, too hot, and...well, boring. You'd think that for a ten year old child to discover he was a real wizard and in possession of a rare and powerful talent of wizardry would make for the best summer of his life, and while it clearly was due to a distinct lack of the Dursleys bothering him, he was simply bored now.

He'd mastered all that Esurio could teach him of internal parselmagic after what had been months of training, and by now - the third week in august - it was all second nature. Enhanced sight, smell, hearing, you name it, Harry could do it. These were the attributes snakes had anyway, something any magical snake could have taught Harry. He'd worked hard on pushing his parselmagic outwards, and he'd reached a block. He could levitate small items, the smaller they were the longer they'd float, and the heavier they were the harder it was to maintain. He could move objects in a fashion similar to the telekinesis he'd seen on TV, though with nowhere near the same level of precision. He could even float himself, as heavy as he was – in comparison to his usual targets – to his bed of a night, no matter where he was in his small, bland bedroom. All it took to do was a simple hiss off his intentions. The parsel flows within him? They were second nature too. Parselmagic was a real part of him now. Gone were the days of training to feel it, and struggling to use it.

Esurio had taken the time to explain the most recent development to Harry, and had finally expanded on some of his plans. _"Speaker, you are progressing fast, too fast. Faster than I thought possible, certainly. You must remember, you are young. Your magical core is astounding for your age and circumstances, you can thank your family bloodline for that, and for the talent you surge forth with, but yet you are still young. Magical development builds with age. Every day you live, your magical core adds to itself. The strongest of wizards push themselves every day to a point of magical exhaustion, you've felt that yourself more than once now. This is how to further enhance your core, however it is limited, and that limit is where you find yourself now. No-one can push their core to infinite levels, only to the height their limiting factors allow, and you have done so. Your next step is clear, attend Hogwarts, learn all that you can. I am more confident that I will allowed to accompany you, your control over me is absolute. Together we'll comb the depths of knowledge in Hogwarts, and for seven years it'll be enough. We'll constantly practice your parselmagic, and I am beyond certain that the magic you wizards consider normal will be of little challenge for you. I know you are bored now, and there is little I can do for that. It is summer, spend the last week relaxing, for you'll have no time to do so in Hogwarts."_

It all made sense to Harry. He thought he'd be excited to attend Hogwarts, and some part of him was. He could imagine how it'd have been were he not introduced to the magical world by Esurio. He'd gotten the letter inviting him a few weeks prior, and written back with a simple acceptance, which was sure to raise heads when it reached Hogwarts. Esurio had explained how as he was raised in the muggle world, that he should have been a little more... affected... by this revelation, and that those in power in the wizarding world would be wondering why he was not. He had also left blank the option to have someone accompany him to buy his school things, which after this morning, would appear to be very soon.

Earlier, a shout had come from downstairs, another letter for Harry. At this point, Petunia was fine with Harry whilst Vernon and Dudley were absent, and their relationship had progressed to some sort of acceptance. Of course, once Vernon and Dudley arrived home, they hid it well.

But another letter? Harry had wondered if it was from Hogwarts, some reply to his acceptance? Had something gone wrong? He doubted it. It was a fancy envelope, on which was written in a very noble scripture a single title – The Slytherin Heir. Esurio had recognised the style immediately, and if that hadn't given it away, he knew the Gringotts wax seal. He knew this was the start of something big, and something very real. Harry had read the letter aloud after seeing the palpable interest in Esurio's eyes and stance. It had been short, sweet and to the point.

**Master Potter, we write to you to invite you here, Gringotts Bank of Diagon Alley, on the morning of July 28th, to discuss matters mutually beneficial. Kindly attend no later than 12 noon, and present yourself, alone, to the Head Teller, who will be seated at the end of the hall, straight forward upon entry.**

And that was it. Without Esurio, he'd have been completely baffled. Fortunately, Esurio had seen fit to explain, and they'd fallen into a discussion.

"_The purpose is clear, Speaker, from the title with which they addressed you. They know you are the Slytherin Heir, and this is something we need to take into account. Their acknowledgement of this means that of this generation, you are the closest Heir to the main bloodline of Slytherin House. Whether you are the main line or not remains to be seen, perhaps Gringotts can shed some light on that soon enough, but I think we will need to rely on Hogwarts' information to garner that. This, however, is clearly a matter of finances. When I told you many moons back that the Slytherin line was considered extinguished in all but one line, this is what I meant. That one line must have died out too, or be incapable of managing the Slytherin line... Or be unsuitable... I wonder. Regardless, the goblins of Gringotts regard you as the next manager of the Slytherin bloodline, and that is fantastic news. I imagine you'll have access to everything the bloodline has collected over the years once you turn of age, at seventeen, and you'll not have to rely on your aunt or uncle for monetary needs, for the Slytherin line will see to that. You'll be attending that meeting, if it takes a threat to your uncle or not." _Esurio hissed, excitedly.

Harry took it all in, and knew that, in the end, Vernon would take him to London. They wanted rid of him, and if he played this right, he could spend the last week of summer before September 3rd in London, instead of here. _"Yes, I'll go, I want to go. I need money, and I wasn't looking forward to asking the Dursleys for it." _He knew it'd be a good idea to share his plan with Esurio. Over the months he'd come to rely on Esurio's maturity and age, after constant reminders that he was still young. _"I intend to stay there, Esurio, can I do that? There must be a hotel that I can afford to stay at for a week? We don't need to return here, there is nothing here for us now right?"_

Esurio appeared to agree. _"Yes, you're right, Speaker. I am sure there is a place to stay. We can do that, and floo from Diagon Alley to the platform on September 3__rd__. It all works out well. We should leave now though, the longer we have in Diagon Alley they better. You need your school accessories, and I'm anxious that we have time to search both Diagon and Knockturne for parseltongue books. They're rare, and they'll be expensive. A lot rests on this meeting with the goblins, I see now."_

And that was that. Harry had waited until he heard the front door snap, and Vernon's booming voice, wrapped Esurio – now closing 4 feet long, and almost too heavy to carry – around his shoulders, and went for what he was sure would be a showdown.

Harry spoke in a calm, serene voice. _"_Uncle, aunt, I need to speak to you both, now."

Vernon took one look at him, and one could see the colour of his face slowly change. For most of the summer, whilst Vernon had been home, Harry had been out of sight and out of mind. This was a stark reminder of the nephew he never wanted. He finally pulled himself together. "How dare you boy! You come down here the instant I get home and start making demands! Well this isn't your house boy, I thought you'd finally figured that out keeping hidden away in the room we graciously gave you all summer, and this is how you return the favour? Well think again boy, now out of my sight!"

Harry just stood still. It was a comical sight, to see from an objective point of view. Vernon, a huge bulk of a man, staring down at a small boy of average build, eleven years old and not quite five feet tall just yet. He gave Petunia a pointed look, conveying a clear meaning – Make him agree. She got the idea.

Flushing her apron down, she approached Vernon. "Vernon dear, this is clearly important. We should listen," and at Vernon's sharp look she quickly amended herself, "just for a few moments dear, that's all it'll take. Yes? Come on, sit down, I'll bring you a coffee and we'll listen to the boy, won't take long deary."

She bustled off for that coffee while he set down his briefcase and took a seat in his armchair. Harry shifted Esurio's weight to his back, and took a seat on the further seat, a smaller, often unused, armchair opposite the room from Vernon's, leaving Petunia to seat on the sofa when she returned.

Harry steeled himself, and spoke. "Ok, this is important for me. I need to be in central London, tonight. It's an hour round trip for you, Uncle Vernon, and after dropping me there you won't see me until next July." Sincerely hoping this next part was true, he continued. "I don't need anything from you, I have enough money to support myself until I leave for... School. Will you take me?"

Silence. Vernon's face had twitched at the mention of Harry having enough money, but beyond that it looked like time had stopped. It was a moment later before Vernon spoke.

"And where did you get this money from boy?" He spat.

Trust Vernon to only pick up that from the whole speech. Vernon had been stuck in the same boring job making drills for a long time, and he'd never been given the promotion to the board that he'd be chasing for what seemed like a decade, and so he'd never had the hefty pay rise that came with it. Harry improvised an answer to his question quickly. It was important to dodge the minefield, so to speak, and get what he needed – a ride to London.

"It's a trust fund from my new school, Uncle. I have to meet someone from there and they will buy what I need. Most of it will be second-hand, but I don't mind that." Hah. He'd had second-hand things all his life, and that was one thing that was about to change.

It appeared to settle Vernon, though. It was clear his nephew didn't have any of his own money, having never been allowed to get a job, nor had the Dursleys ever given him any money. He spoke.

"Fine boy, we'll take you there and leave you there, and bloody good riddance to you. Give me an hour to eat, I've just got in from a tiring day, not that you'd know about that! Now get out of my sight, and be back down here in an hour, and you'd better not keep my waiting!"

Harry knew when to listen, and so did Esurio. At the small shunt on his back from Esurio, they left silently. He'd already packed most of his pitiful belongings into a small case he'd found forgotten about in the airing cupboard. Now he only needed to wait for Vernon, which wouldn't take long, the man ate like a goat. He felt the faint stirrings of excitement rising in him and forced them down for now. Unless the wizards were vastly different, and Esurio didn't know, then the shops would be shut by the time he arrived in Diagon Alley, and so he'd just have to find a hotel and wait for morning, but it was enough to know that he was finally moving on with his life.

Harry spent the hour with a snake's hearing ability, listening to Vernon rant and rave about the agreed plan. He knew that without the bonus of not seeing Harry for ten months that Vernon probably wouldn't have agreed to take him, but on the hour he headed downstairs with his tattered suitcase and made it clear he was ready to leave. Dudley was out with his friends, and Petunia had come into the hall to see Vernon off. She'd looked at Harry for a split second, and as he'd raised his eyebrows Petunia gave the tiniest of smiles on one side of her mouth, before quickly appearing stoic and uninterested. At last they left.

The trip was made in silence, Vernon's face had made it clear he had nothing to say, and as Harry risked a quick "Bye, Uncle," he'd just received a grunt in return. Thankfully, his uncle had dropped him right where he needed to be, outside the Leaky Cauldron. Thanks to Esurio's knowledge, he knew how to get through to Diagon Alley. Esurio had also suggested staying right here for the week, at the Leaky Cauldron, but after a short discussion had realised it wasn't the smartest idea. They were expecting Harry to be somewhat invisible, having no friends in the wizarding world meant that no-one knew him, but an eleven year old wandering around alone rose suspicions. Esurio knew of no other establishments close by, but suggested the outskirts of Knockturne Alley. He'd explained to Harry that those who ran inns in Knockturne would not be bothered by a child wandering around, nor that said child had a pet snake.

Harry had been thrown off by that, he wasn't aware they intended to hide, but all the same he'd found an inn very close to the entrance. A tiny place aptly called 'Ye Olde Haven', wherein he'd asked for a room and gotten a grunt very similar to Vernon's earlier, and a rude shove to a door off a side corridor. The room was nothing special, but the innkeeper hadn't asked for payment upfront, which was pretty vital right now. Until the morning he had no money.

"_We're here Harry. First thing upon sunrise you should go to Gringotts. Tell them you've lost your key, and they'll ask for a drop of blood. Grant them their wish and they shall take you to a trust vault of your family's, due to your age. The vault should be relatively inconspicuous, and should not give away your Slytherin heritage, so the goblin who takes you will remain unaware. You'll want to grab all the money you can, for now." _Esurio instructed. _"It's late though, and the wizarding world starts early in the morn, we should retire for now. Speaker, this is the start of something great for you, I only thank you for bringing me into it all."_

Esurio's tone made it clear he meant it. The summer had been relatively normal. Sure, Harry had a talking snake, magic, weird magic because of the talking snake, and all kinds of crazy things he could do, but he'd still been in Privet Drive, still lived with the Dursleys, still did some chores... Not a lot had been different, outside of his bedroom walls. Now that they were in Diagon Alley, it all _felt_ different. No more Dursleys for a start. And of Harry and Esurio, it was hard to see which was more excited to start the next stages.

Harry was ready for bed, or what counted for a bed in this hovel of an inn. It was a tiny mattress on a wooden base that looked about as comfortable as the floor, but was reliably informed by Esurio that the floor was worse, and they found themselves sharing the mattress, Esurio coiled up at the end.

Facing the window, the sun was bright and filled the room with light. Esurio had been awake earlier, but had kept silent. They had a long day ahead of them, and Harry needed what sleep he could get. Esurio knew Harry didn't often sleep late, the Dursleys had a habit of waking him early for cooking breakfast, and after habitually rising early, such tendencies were hard to break.

"_Morning Esurio. Are we going to get started? I'm hungry, haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and we need money to eat." _Harry had asked. For an eleven year old, he was surprisingly undaunted by the fact that he was essentially alone and tasked with caring for himself for a week. He knew he had shelter, was pretty certain he had access to money, and had everything planned out. Esurio was his guardian in times like this, and he felt safe with Esurio. Most people would, four foot long snake that he was.

Esurio looked at Harry, while slowly uncoiling and stretching out._"Yes, Speaker. I shall accompany you to Gringotts, the goblins will recognise me as a familiar and will have no problems with my being there. I had planned to hunt early, but I have a new idea. This...Place... caters for the less normal of wizard kind, I believe. We should head to Gringotts then return here, they will have suitable food for us both."_

And so they went. Their first outing into wizarding Britain, likely the first of many over the week. Freedom suited Harry well, and Esurio could see it. The entrance of the old inn wasn't far from Gringotts, and the alley was largely deserted, the day only just starting, shopkeepers opening up. Incidentally, this was Harry's first glimpse of other wizards and witches, and he was subconsciously judging as he walked. Their dress sense was... Odd. They also appeared to be a happy, chirpy bunch. He could never recall Vernon being happy before heading to work in the morning, although he knew Vernon was a bad indication of emotions.

Approaching the bank, Esurio knew the goblins would be ready, they always were. Framing the door, two soldiers clad in patterned steel armour and clutching spears, with sheathed swords attached to their belts, stood guard. The bank was as empty as the street, but the goblins sat ready for the day's business. Clearly they were far more organised than the humans.

All the goblins had their eyes on Harry, and the snake around his shoulders, as they entered.

"_Why are they staring at us Esurio? I don't like it." _This was one of the times Harry's age came right back to haunt him. At eleven, being stared at is a scary thing. Esurio's answer did little but make it worse.

"_I don't know, Speaker. It is uncommon for goblins to acknowledge anyone until they need do so, and even then they do so only for the briefest of moments."_

A booming voice spoke over the silence, from an approaching goblin. This one was dressed differently, he was weapons about his belt and armour, though lighter than the guards out front, attached to his body. He had badges, similar to military badges Harry had seen on television, on his chest, which stood out even from this distance. "You are Mr Potter, are you not? You are early, a few days early in fact. We did not ask for your presence until the 28th. Are you aware of this?"

The goblin was right in front of them now. Harry gathered his thoughts and spoke. "How do you know who I am? I only came here for some money, and yes, I had every intention of being here on the 28th. Is there a problem?"

Esurio had spoken briefly on how to deal with goblins. Firmly and swiftly. They were not creatures to mess around, nor were they particularly humorous.

Before the goblin could answer, another voice, deeper and yet louder spoke from the back of the room.

"Graznak, you were not told to interrogate our guest. I believe your instructions were clear enough, was I wrong? Escort our guest to Hizdir immediately."

The speaker was clad in nothing short of golden armour. Decorated far beyond the first goblin speaker, and apparently used to having his orders followed, because the goblin who'd been address as Graznak spoke with haste. "Apologies, Mr Potter. Follow me, if you please."

"_Go, Speaker. They mean you no harm, I am sure. It is obvious they know who you are, I imagine the meeting planned for the 28th is about to happen now. I will stay with you, food can wait I think." _Esurio hissed, quietly into Harry's ear.

The rest of the goblins behind the counters were still staring. Partly at Harry, and partly at the golden-clad goblin. Harry had soon sussed that these goblins didn't see the higher-ups – as Vernon called them – often. Eyes followed them right through the empty hall into a small corridor, where they were thankfully granted some peace.

Graznak led them into a small room, with one Goblin - Hizdir? - sharply dressed in a suit Harry would expect in the muggle world, sat behind an ornate, elaborate desk. A lone chair sat before it, clearly intended for Harry.

The suited goblin spoke.

"At last, the last Slytherin Heir joins our world. And... Bonded already? The greatsnake around your shoulders... Impressive, Mr... Ahhhh, what should we call you. Master Slytherin... It has a ring to it, no? Or perhaps Lord Slytherin, your rightful title? Sit, sit. We have matters to discuss."

And here we are, the start of his wizarding life. Another chapter, on the meeting here at Gringotts and his week at 'Ye olde haven' before we hit Hogwarts for his first year. Fear not, this won't be like some stories that have Gringotts ally with Harry and become a massive army of super-goblins with laser guns and telekinesis... or will they? Muhahaha.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry hesitated, and the goblin saw it immediately.

Slightly disgruntled, it spoke in a sharp voice. "Lord Slytherin, please, take a seat," the goblin – Hizdir? – said, indicating at the grand armchair situated before his desk. "I understand you were told to be here on the 28th, however today shall be fine. You can consider your previous appointment unnecessary, now. As it happens, that letter was sent by my request. I am Hizdir, the manager of the Slytherin accounts and vaults here at Gringotts. Interestingly enough, it is my goblin bloodline that has managed these same accounts since the patriarch of my own line had dealings with the patriarch of yours... How curious, that after the Slytherin line was thought extinct that here you sit before me, and all the more shocking, apparently unaware of exactly why you are here. Just how much has your snake told you, Mr. Slytherin?

The goblin made Harry uneasy. He spoke with an arrogant tone, sat with an arrogant posture and sneered with an arrogant smirk. That the goblin was rich was clear from his apparel, which was easily the most extravagant he'd seen on any goblin yet. Fortunately, Esurio had given him some useful information, so he didn't feel like a complete child.

"That I am a Slytherin I already knew, prior to your letter. We don't know how close to the main line I am, and have no real way of finding out, but Esurio thinks Hogwarts may hold some answers. He's also told me that I am the only Slytherin heir remaining, which suggests why we are here?"

A Slytherin tactic already and he'd not even been sorted yet. Answering a question with a question, wanting more information before committing to the conversation. He was fooling no-one, goblins had been dealing with wizards for millennia and had seen it all, but Hizdir took it in his stride.

"Lord Slytherin, and yes, you are right in one respect – you are the last Slytherin heir, hence the title, there is actually very little for us here today, due to your age. The Slytherin line has no remaining members, bar yourself, and so this is merely an introduction if you will, and nothing will change until you come of age. You have free access to a trust vault containing more gold than most wizarding families have in total, which will comfortably see you through all seven years of Hogwarts sparing no expenses. Each Heir before you has had the same, and so I think it only fair I pass on the instructions my fathers have done before me. Use the gold wisely, my lord. During your time at Hogwarts it would be incredibly easy to spend far too much on sugary sweets and far too little on books unavailable in the castle. It would be far too easy to woo the females of the school with expensive gifts, and much easier still to forgot the prime purpose of your education at Hogwarts, that is to learn. Do not restrict yourself, Lord Slytherin, for you have the means to do otherwise."

The goblin sat back in his throne-like chair, and studied the Slytherin boy's passive expression. He knew he'd got his point across, and he knew that due to the bonding, the boy would heed his words. A normal eleven year old child would forget everything he said the minute he walked out the doors.

"Should you have any questions, Lord Slytherin, now is the time to ask. I do not have spare time, and so we shall not be meeting much over the years. Should you need anything from me, you can simply send an owl. I assure you, it will be received and dealt with most promptly. Now, anything you wish to ask?"

Harry considered his options. The goblin hadn't exactly revealed anything that they didn't already know. Addressing him as Lord Slytherin was useful, in that if the goblins thought he was the only remaining heir, then he was the only remaining heir. Goblins didn't make mistakes about topics such as these. His financial worries were solved too, a great relief to Harry. And the 'instructions'... To Harry, they sounded exactly like something his esteemed family line would pass down. Before he bonded with Esurio, he could imagine doing exactly what the goblin had said while at Hogwarts, and not doing what Hizdir had suggested, but he knew otherwise, before and now.

He was about to speak, and it hit him suddenly – how did he address this goblin? By his name? Seemed a little impolite given the title he was addressed with. Thanking whatever presence magic held that he had Esurio with him, he sought to conclude the meeting.

"_Esurio, what do I call him? I can't just call him Hizdir, I only met him 10 minutes ago!" _Inwardly, this was a problem, but in his hissing speech to Esurio he was calm and collected. The goblin of course, would not understand.

"_Speaker, simply call him Hizdir. Yes, he will expect it. Goblins were seen as servants to the wizarding race for centuries, and while that attitude is not the same now, certain relics of it survived, and this is one of them. Goblins do not need titles and vocatives from us. In essence, he is working for you by managing your vaults and finances; he is your family's 'employee' within this institution. Hizdir will suffice, for now." _Esurio hissed back.

Fair enough, Harry thought. Hizdir had even said they wouldn't be seeing much of each other anyway, and he wasn't particularly comfortable around goblins quite yet.

"Just the withdrawal from my trust vault then, Hizdir. I'll be needing more than your average first year student would... That's not a problem is it?"

The boy was a Slytherin through and through. Hizdir's eyes gleamed at he looked at the boy and his snake. He'd taken onboard the instructions already, and it appeared he had already planned something of a similar nature before coming to Gringotts. This boy was something special, someone to keep an eye on. Ahhh, if only the parseltongue legend was true. The silence was stretching on a little too long as he pondered the answer to the boy's question, and he finally decided to ignore it for now. He'd not push the young lord any further today, perhaps this one would rise above himself of his own accords.

"Ahh, it's quite below my position to be fetching withdrawals, I'm sure you understand. You are already acquainted with Graznak, are you not? He will take you to your vaults, now, if it pleases you. I have work to be continuing on with. Like I said, Lord Slytherin, should you need me an owl will suffice. I do however implore you not to bother me with trivial pursuits. Until we speak again, goodbye young Lord Slytherin."

The dismissal was obvious, and Graznak had thought so too. Hizdir watched the boy leaving his office with that great snake around his neck. He certainly wasn't hiding his parseltongue, that was clear, and yet some might think that it was unwise not to do so. A thousand years ago Parseltongue had been much more common, as the Slytherin line flourished. The family was its own worst nightmare though, always on the frontline of battles, fights and wars, and slowly the lines had died out, leaving this boy and one other who had perished ten years back. Now, with the rarity of parseltongue speakers and the actions of the previous parselmouths, the talent had become mistrusted and frowned upon. Perhaps this boy could change that, perhaps not. Little would it affect the goblin world, regardless. He vaguely remembered the stories about parseltongues his father had told him, of which his grandfather had passed on, and so on through the generations. They had said their would be a parseltongue legend one day, someone who brought the Slytherin line back to absolute dominance over the wizarding world as it once held. Straining to remember the prophecy, he could recall perhaps the first tenets.

**A Parseltongue of old to reclaim,  
that which was taken where nought had been gained.  
To rise in prominence and stand – head held high,  
coiling around him; a serpent, striking unto thine.**

Hah, he thought. As if the Canton Of Prohibition would allow that. The damned Canton would have this world brought to its knees before it allowed a single bloodline to rule the wizarding race again. Still, he thought, none of a goblins business. Soon enough, the meeting was little but a bubble in the back of Hizdir's mind.

Harry had his money, plenty of it as a matter of fact, and the street had largely opened up in the half hour he'd spent in the bank. Esurio had suggested what seemed like a sensible, if boring, plan; acquire what he needed for school first, cart all that back to the inn, then head back out for personal shopping. Thinking on it, he realised that what he wanted would amount to much more than what he needed, and so he agreed and went along with it, with as little fuss as possible. Getting the school-issue books and equipment was a breeze, the shopkeepers already had most of it done for him. Little packages of books for each year, substantially larger packages for potions and astronomy too. But, and Harry knew this as he walked towards the lone shop, one thing on the list could not be pre-arranged. A wand.

In all honesty, the wand didn't excite him as much as it should have done. He had already casted magic; sure, it was parselmagic, but Esurio had told him it was all the same in the end. More importantly, Esurio had warned him about wands. They were a clutch, to make magic easier and more accessible, and if he became too reliant on a wand his wandless magic would be more difficult, right down to feeling the parselmagic in his blood. He had no intention of allowing that to become the case, and Esurio wouldn't let him. Anything that could be cast with a wand could be cast without one, with more practise, time and most importantly, power. He had the first and the last, and he knew he could make more time. Esurio had also hinted that he could use parselmagic to cast his normal incantations, making them stronger, and most probably easier if he kept his training with parselmagic to a high standard.

They approached the rickety, run-down shop. It looked completely out of place on the street. The windows had spider webs covering them, and were otherwise grey with dust and age. The door was as old as the rest of the shop, and threatened to fall apart as it creaked open. Strangely, and for what he thought was the first time, he could feel magic on the door handle. Similar to the parselmagic inside him, he could feel it, albeit much weaker, on the handle. That was all he could do, because an old man he presumed was Ollivander himself jumped out from behind the counter, with much more enthusiasm than you would expect from one his age.

"A first year no doubt! Come in, come in, here for your wand eh, won't take a jiffy now, come on! Nothing special about this boy, simply walk around the room near the wands until you feel say... Warmer... When you do, simply pick up the boxes and try the wands within them!

Easier said than done. He walked around the room, and came across a section he felt warmer at. Turning to face the wall, he saw hundreds of boxes all within reaching distance of the point he stood at now. This was beginning to look like more and more of a chore. He didn't even need a damn wand!

And that thought, crucially, gave him a sudden burst of inspiration. He voiced his thoughts to Esurio, once again glad that no-one else could understand parseltongue. These frequent conversations were completely secret to Esurio and himself, and he loved it.

"_Esurio, do you see a problem here?" _Harry hissed quietly to his familiar.

Immediately,Ollivander gasped, in shock at what was obviously parseltongue. He spoke, quickly and quietly, "Mr... Slytherin, is it? Yes... Yes, it must be. That was parseltongue. I did not expect to hear that language ever again, the Slytherin line was considered extinct over a decade ago. My, my. What a surprise..."

Harry could see on his face what kind of surprise it had been. An unwelcome one. He shot the old man an exasperated glance, and turned back to confer with Esurio.

"_There are hundreds of boxes here, this could take all morning, and you know I'd rather not spend it here. Something you mentioned some time ago has given me an idea and I want to know what you think... You said a wand is a part of a wizard, and once the wand has chosen the wizard, no other wand will work so well, for it is not the part of the wizard, but a part of another wizard, yes? Well, if a wand here is part of me, and I am.. Adept.. With internal parselmagic, couldn't I spur my magic to call the right wand to me?" _Esurio considered the idea. He could certainly see the logic behind it, but he was more concerned that no wand here would be fit for the Slytherin heir. He was positive that the previous generations of Slytherins would not have used Ollivander wands, but he had no solution. He originally thought perhaps the goblin would have said something, maybe the vault held a wand suitable for a Slytherin parseltongue, but nothing of the sort had occurred. He could see no harm in trying his suggestion though, and so he agreed.

"_Yes, Speaker. It will work, if one of these wands is meant for you. Try it."_

And so he reached into his veins along his arms and into his palm, for that familiar feeling, spurring his parselmagic. Not giving it any direction, just allowing it to wake and guide him. None of the wands felt any different. In fact, none of them gave him any feeling at all, they were just boxes. Suddenly, he had a clear flashback to months ago, the day he first encountered Esurio. The fangs, and knowing that behind them sat poison sacks, feeding those knife-like fangs with fatal poison. In an essence, that poison was his weapon, his bonded familiar who would do anything for his master. He understood. His wand would not be one of these on the shelf, but one with a core of Esurio's poison.

Esurio had felt it too. It felt the same as when he'd crept up on his prey for the night, his mouth wide and fangs elongated. Poison was already rushing through his teeth, dripping from the end, ready to immobilise his unfortunate victim. There was no prey here, and he instinctively knew he was reacting to Harry's magic. He knew what it meant, and he now knew exactly why the goblins had no wand for his master. It made sense. Anyone of the Slytherin bloodline would be bonded to a snake well before attending school, some as young as 3 or 4, the snake taking a caring, guarding role for the infant, growing with them. Slytherin wands were made from the venom of their familiars.

"_Speaker, you know, I can tell. This is the answer. At first, I thought the goblins would have a wand for you in the family vaults, but it is clear why they did not. Your wand must have a core of the very same venom that burns in your blood; my venom. Instruct Ollivander of this, he will make a wand for you today."_

That was the last thing Harry wanted to do after Ollivander's obvious reaction to parseltongue. It was clear to Harry that the man was glad the Slytherin line had ended, and was distraught that it clearly wasn't, despite him attempting to hide his emotions on the subject. Nonetheless, he needed the right wand, and his was the way to get it. Besides, Esurio had implied his family had done this before him, he doubted it would be a surprise to the old man.

"Sir, I need a wand created. None of these are right for me. I need a wand with Esurio's venom as its core."

The man paled. "A family tradition continues, I think, yes. Ash wands with personalised cores for each and every Slytherin to pass through those doors, you are much the same of course. Come, let us head through to the back, I think we can have it made before the hour strikes eh?"

He was nervous, that much was obvious on his face. Harry had no idea why; if the man had done this before, and for what he assumed was more than a few generations given his age, he couldn't see why it'd bother him. Was it so unusual for a bonded wizard to feel connected to a wand containing his familiar's essence?

As you'd expect of a wandmaker's shop, the back contained a workshop packed full of wooden branches of various woods, jars and sachets of materials and contents for cores, and a crowded workbench for Ollivander. He was stood by it, looking eerily at the snake around Harry's shoulders. His implication was obvious, he needed the venom. Harry picked up on his meaning, and wondered how this was done himself.

"_Esurio, we need your venom. Do you need to...Bite it...Like with me? Or...?" _Harry asked.

The snake gave a short meaningless hiss which sounded amazingly like a snort a human would give in disdain of stupidity, and Harry knew it. Well, how was he to know how this was done? Eleven years old, and certainly not a wandmaker!

Esurio hissed quietly, _"No, Speaker. I can simply give my venom freely to the wandmaker. He will bond it to the wood himself."_ A short silence passed in which Harry was clearly expecting Esurio to leave his shoulder and head to the worktable, but Esurio had a pressing concern. _"Speaker, you should ask about this. The man said Ash, and offered no reasoning behind it, or explanation for it. I would assume your family have all had ash wands, but you can never be so certain. It is not so common for bloodlines to all have similar wands anymore."_

Harry did recall the man saying it would be an ash wand and initially had taken no notice of it. Was it particularly important? He couldn't think why the type of wood might change something, but if Esurio thought it important... Perhaps he should ask.

Walking over to the worktop to lower Esurio down, Harry decided it'd be best to know. He knew his wand had to stay with him for life, now wasn't the time to rush, the books could wait! "Mr. Ollivander, earlier you said the wand would be ash. Why did you assume so? I've given no indication of any preference for the wood type."

"Ah, young lad, your family has had ash wands since I first became a wandcrafter. Some have tried other woods, sure, but it has never worked. Your family has an affinity for ash, that much is clear. Hmmm, it is curious... I considered your family extinct before you came here. Would we be tempting fate to test others for you, I wonder?" Ollivander explained. At this point, Harry was dead set on making sure this was the right wand for him, for some reason he felt compelled to do so. Rushing the process wasn't ideal for someone you did once in your entire life, to find a part of yourself, something that just _worked_.

At Ollivander's instruction, he briefly held various models of wooden wands containing no core, to feel for which would suit him most. Esurio was watching from the workbench, and was clearly not surprised when all the common wood types, birch, oak, pine, fir and redwood did nothing for his master. Finally, Harry clicked with a model.

It wasn't ash.

The vibe in the workshop was... Odd. Ollivander had no idea what to make of it. From what he predicted to be a normal day, finding normal wands for normal first year students, this was far out of the picture. A lone heir from a family considered extinct with a bonded greatsnake around his shoulders had broken tradition of well over two hundred years, and had felt most comfortable with a yew wand. The model he held was a dyed black yew wood, which when polished looked most impressive.

Esurio had been thinking, and finally spoke his mind. _"This is important. I do not know why, yet, but I can assure you we need to look into it. Centuries ago, perhaps even millennia, family lines always bonded to similar wands. Lines now do not do so, and no-one knows why. That Ollivander expected your line to do so was a clue towards your heritage which would have been helpful to us, but now you have broken that tradition, we can't use it. We shouldn't forget this, Speaker."_

"_So... What now? Should I get an ash wand, or yew? Ash with your ven-"_

Esurio interrupted him. _"Oh no, you must get the yew wand. My venom is in the holder, the man can make it now, it does not take long. This wand is right for you, and that is of paramount importance. For now, we're done here. We will certainly look into this, in the future." _ And with that, he slithered off the bench and towards the door, leading to the front of the shop, without waiting for Harry.

He had his wand, after what seemed like an eternity in the old man's shop, which had in fact only been half an hour. The day was still young, and he had hours to shop. He had his school things and now his wand. Esurio was waiting by the door, ready to head back to the inn to leave his purchases.

Inside the shop, however, Ollivander was pensive. That young man was clearly a Slytherin heir, there was no contesting that. Eleven years old with a bonded snake over four feet long, that was impossible surely. He was no parseltongue, but in his profession one learnt many things, and he had made wands for parseltongues in the past. None of them had snakes as large as that, and he knew the secret. He knew the snakes grew with their master's magic. They both spoke parseltongue like it was second nature, and he would bet every wand in his shop that the young man had used parselmagic already. The legend. A parseltongue of old to reclaim, that which was taken where nought had been gained. He knew the legend, all of it, and he wondered. He'd been alive long enough to know that legends always had a base of truth, and that young man's visit had been... Disconcerting. Did the Canton know of this? It was his duty to notify the Canton Of Prohibition, surely? They kept an eye on all underage wizards who were stronger than normal, perhaps they already knew about him. Nonetheless, the old wandmaker set about writing a short, swift note, and readied an owl.

Well, first up, I apologise for the lack of updates. Exam time is stressful, definitely wasn't in the mood for it. The good news – I'm free for 3 months now. Should expect plenty of updates over the next 12 weeks.

Really pushing forward with the story now! Yesssss, really enjoyed writing this chapter because of that, and I hope you all enjoyed it too. Some big hints about what might happen in the future here, let me know if you think you know what might happen in a review! I'd love to see some guesses


	7. Chapter 7

The day was proving to be a warm, sunny day, and the alley showed it. After leaving his stuff at the inn – mostly unpacked, none of it interested him – and placing his new wand in his pocket, they ventured back out. Call it what you will, this trip was pretty much solely for books. After his school equipment, there really was little more he could get except books, and he was interested in just about every type of magic Esurio had let slip over the summer months.

From external parselmagic, which he knew he'd have to venture into Knockturne alley for, to conjuration, which was clearly the pinnacle of the transfiguration branch of magic, Harry wanted books on it all. He felt like he was somehow behind everyone else that had grown up in the wizarding world, despite Esurio's assurances otherwise.

Flourish and Blotts was packed, mostly students of all years getting their necessary books, but this was only the first floor, where he'd gotten his pre-arranged book pack earlier. The shop was one of the tallest, and covered everything from firm educational fact to smutty teen fiction, a section crowded by older Hogwarts females. Harry made a beeline towards the history section. The patriarch of his line was a founder of the very school itself, and Harry knew he'd find more on him here. Indeed there were books on all four founders.

Subconsciously whispering quietly, so no-one in the immediate area heard them, Esurio and Harry were trading comments back and forth.

"_Helga Hufflepuff... You told me that house was full of idiots and... Simpletons was the word you used!" _Harry said, letting out a snort.

"_Laugh all you will Speaker. Within the year you will come to realise I am right, you will not rely on a hufflepuff for any magical feats, let me assure you of that. They're all more concerned with building friendships than learning, as useless as they are."_

"Rowena Ravenclaw... A house for the intelligent. What makes you think I won't end up in Ravenclaw?"

"_If it wasn't for your bloodline I'd have said there was an infinitely small chance of you doing so, but the house simply isn't you. They value intelligence for the sake of intelligence, which is about as useless as that plastic mouse toy you tried to buy for me on the way here. One's intelligence is only as good as its purpose, making large amounts of Ravenclaw students worthless. For all their studying and bookish ways they can't gain magical power or talents. I assure you, your parseltongue skill, once refined, will have you beat any of them in a duel, no matter how much ministry-regulated rot they've read."_

Harry laughed at that. Such a long diatribe of hatred for a conceptual group of people, of which he'd met all of none so far.

"_And finally, Godric Gryffindor, the house of the –" _

"_Brave, yes. Another useless bunch. Brave and stupid usually. What good is bravery to run into a conflict you will clearly lose?" _Esurio interrupted.

Harry laughed again. Esurio was clearly prejudiced; they couldn't all be that different surely. He could agree on the hufflepuff concept, it just sounded too much like the house someone went to when they had no worthy attributes, the reject house basically. He looked around the shop at some of the other, older students, and of the ones who had their uniforms on – why the hell would anyone shop in their school robes anyway – he could see the logos on the front. Large amounts of ravenclaws, less Gryffindor and one solitary Hufflepuff. Sounded about right for a bookshop. There was no Slytherins around... Why was that?

"_Esurio, take a look around. Three of the four houses all have students up here, but no Slytherins. Why?" _Harry asked.

Esurio had the answer already prepared, he'd noticed the lack of Slytherins when they came in. _"An answer you would find for yourself if we got out of this shop and went to the... Other... Bookstores in Knockturne alley. The Slytherins will have seen all these books years ago, and have their school books delivered to their homes no doubt. They will be looking at the kind of books you seek, that can't be found in here. In fact..."_

"_Yeah, ok, these don't seem that helpful anyway. I'll just get the two books on the Slytherin line, and the book about the founders, though that one is huge... It'll take me months to read that," _he grumbled.

Heading back to the stairs, one of the older ravenclaws crowding a runes section suddenly jumped and shrieked, pointing at Esurio, who had been on the floor instead of Harry's shoulders. They'd been over at the back of the floor, alone, in the history section, and none of them had noticed the four-foot long snake – until now.

"What's the problem?" he asked the girl.

"There's a bloody snake in here! Right there! Get away from it quickly!" she squeaked out, backing away into the bookshelf. Harry was giggling like a girl of his age now. He hadn't seen Esurio as something to be scared of since that very first day, it was... Odd... Realising that perhaps others did.

"Yes, you have your pet cat here too, look," he said, pointing at the cat hidden behind the girl's legs.

"That thing isn't a pet! It's a monster!" The girl was on the edge of hysterics now, probably because Esurio was advancing on her, when it was clear he was after the cat. The cat was either brave or stupid, certainly not the ideal pet for the Ravenclaw girl, because it didn't move from behind her owner's legs, and within three seconds, Esurio had gotten within a few feet of that cat, lifted his head, coiled his tail and shot forward like a ninja from one of Dudley's video games, and the cat's neck was now in his mouth. The poor cat wasn't going to live much longer and sure enough, it stopped struggling. The girl fainted, falling straight backwards into the bookshelf, with one of her friends giving a half-hearted attempt to catch her which failed. The others were staring in shock, either at their fainted friend on the floor or the great snake who had now eaten half the cat.

Harry was in hysterics. Esurio and cats! He couldn't stop laughing, and that's how the shop assistant found them. One fainted student, who looked perhaps fifteen, maybe sixteen. One hysterical young boy, clearly a first year, and a group of Ravenclaws huddled together and stood like statues.

"Hah! A snake! A big snake!" The assistant peeped out, while trying to tiptoe around it to the fainted student. Why did people tiptoe around a snake? Esurio clearly didn't care, he was digesting a cat. Why would he care if you were tiptoeing or walking? He could hear you tiptoe anyway, stupid assistant. Time for the grand reveal, Harry thought. _"Esurio, hurry. We're done here, and you've done enough damage as it is. I'll probably be arrested for that poor cat now!"_

Another girl fainted. The shop assistant fell on a nearby chair, staring at Harry with a white face and fearful eyes.

"_Urrgh. Speaker. The fur always tastes horrible, and we snakes have no way of getting it off. This was clearly your fault. I told you this morning I was hungry, and we haven't eaten yet! You rushed me back out of the inn for... Books."_ Esurio had finished digesting the cat, which was now a clear lump in his body, about the same length the cat had been.

Time to leave! _"Come on Esurio, climb onto my shoulders. We need to leave, now. They know I'm a parselmouth and you just ate someone's pet, this isn't good."_ And with that, the two were downstairs and out the door, without paying for any of the books he'd picked up!

"_Not this left, the next one, Speaker. That's Knockturne alley, we'll be safe down there. And that cat wasn't a pet; it had the smell of the streets on it. It was clearly a stray."_ Esurio hissed, as Harry jogged towards Knockturne alley. Harry stopped when Esurio said that, and burst out laughing again.

"_You idiot! She had a bag of supplies from the pet shop, and her friend had the cage! They'd just bought the cat today and you ate it!" _Harry said, struggling to finish his words due to the laughter.

Esurio just looked smug. Harry knew he didn't care about the girl or her cat, and true enough, Esurio confirmed it.

"_It was a cat, Speaker. They're useless pets; I did the girl a favour. She's a Ravenclaw, she should know better anyhow."_

What a disaster. There'd be no cats down here in Knockturne alley, he knew, so at least it wouldn't happen again. A snake was far less likely to draw such unwelcome attention down here, but he knew parseltongue would. It was clear Esurio had been holding back when he'd explained about parseltongue in the wizarding world. No-one had reacted well to it, at all. And yet Harry felt no compulsion to hide his ability, which was basically hiding his lineage. No orphan who had discovered something about their real family, and found they had something to be proud of in that, would hide it. Besides, he wasn't losing anything by revealing it. No-one would know of his parselmagic.

Entering the small, dark bookshop, Harry and Esurio both looked around for the owner. The very first book on Harry's left was a dark leather-bound book with a plain cover and it's title – three words stitched into the leather in silver – 'Arts Moste Dark', which made him shiver in excitement. This was where he'd find books related to his talent, and he knew it. Esurio had tasted the air around them as soon as they'd walked in, no doubt searching for the owner, and he'd picked up the scent of the only other human.

Quietly, he spoke to Harry, not wanting the owner to hear them yet, should harry decide to hide his parseltongue. _"Behind that door, Speaker. He knows we are here. You should let him know that we've found him; he can most likely help us."_

"Sir," Harry called out. "We could use your assistance, and remaining behind that door no longer serves a purpose."

The door creaked back a little, creating a big enough gap for the man to fit through, and surely enough he came out into the shop-front. "Ahhh, a snake. That explains how you found me, or should I say... How the snake found me? This is your familiar, I care to assume. Not many take snakes as familiars now-a-days; they tend to be difficult to communicate with, although it seems you have had some manner of success... Mr...?"

And just like that, Harry was trapped. He had two choices; tell the man he was a Slytherin, which would – due to the snake – imply he was a parselmouth, or he could ask Esurio what name to give, showing that he was a parselmouth. The owner of the shop had set him up very nicely, and judging by the smirk on his face, he knew it. Harry looked at Esurio, who by now had dropped to the floor and moved closer to the door, and somehow Harry knew why. He was blocking it. Unless the man had a second exit somewhere out the back – which was very unlikely in Knockturne alley because of its layout – then by blocking the only escape route from the shop. Esurio was ensuring the man would have to listen to him... Which meant he could reveal his real surname.

The inner Slytherin traits Harry had got from his parents were usually pretty quiet, since at eleven he was in very few situations that he'd need to use them, but this was one of them. Harry instinctively knew that the man needed to be cowed, to keep his secret for now, and to never reveal that he was actively looking to study parselmagic. Being a speaker was something Hogwarts and the wizarding world could deal with, while most likely being a little wary towards him, which Esurio had assured him would be a benefit eventually, but being known as a practicing parselcaster would never be accepted. He'd be accused of going dark before he reached thirteen, which was not conclusive to staying in Hogwarts for seven years at all.

"_Well done, Esurio. I hate to admit it, but he had me trapped there, and you gave me a way out while still getting what we needed, and he won't be a problem now. You're amazingly useful to have around...Sometimes!" _He could, of course, remember the cat incident.

"_If you recall a conversation we had many months back, it's in my best interests to help you. My growth rate has slowed down recently, because you have not gained any magical strength or progression in your abilities. If this man was to let it be known that you'll be studying parselmagic, you'd have no chance to become stronger, you'd be watched constantly. Besides, when I was a smaller snake I could never scare you humans, now I can I do find it humorous... As for the cat, well, I thought her owner was the more pathetic of the two," _Esurio hissed.

Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. The two of them... Together they were different now. They were more than just a first year student and his pet, and it was becoming more and more obvious. Everyone knew, for instance, that Dumbledore and his Phoenix were more than a pet and its owner, much more. Just the thought that he and Esurio were something new and strong and... Real... made Harry so happy inwardly. From an orphan living with nasty relatives to standing on the edge of greatness with no obstacles in his way was such a path, and he loved it.

The shopkeeper had overheard the hissing and instantly recognised it for what it was, and he'd thrown all notions of outsmarting the young lad out the window. Whatever age this boy was, his snake wasn't to be underestimated. At a guess, that snake knew shops in Knockturne alley had no back exit, because it weakened the wards on the property to have two exceptions. He'd thought the lad was trapped; either way the boy would've had to reveal his identity, and the shopkeeper could use it against him in future, a blackmail of sorts to keep it secret. He now knew otherwise – he was the one who would have to keep quiet now. His path was clear – help the boy in whatever he could, and make no enemies where he did not need them.

"I can assume correctly, I think, in why you are here, Lord Slytherin." Harry was impressed. The man clearly knew his history. Sure, he'd revealed he was a Slytherin, but the man had instantly picked up that he must be the last one, and used the correct title for said circumstance. It appeared he was not as alone in this world as he'd feared. "Yes," the shopkeeper continued, "I would imagine you are seeking parseltongue works; extremely rare and valuable, for sure. I find myself wondering if you can afford what I have to offer..." The implication was clear – the keeper doubted it. Fortunately, Esurio had prepared him a little for this.

"The works have no value to you, sir, because you are not a parselmouth. They are valuable only to those who can read them, since the parsel trait cannot be learned - only inherited. My snake has assured me that this shop is the only place one could find such works, and I believe him, so we'll be taking them with us, now. As for payment, we'll hold that off till a later date. I'm sure you won't forget."

The shopkeeper pondered, silently. The boy was correct of course. He was no parselmouth, nor could he read the works. Not being his enemy, that had been his goal since the snake moved to the door, and it seemed the young lad had at least inherited the Slytherin honour along with their intelligence – he'd pay up eventually, somehow, though doubtfully in a financial way. It was in both their best interests to give up the parseltongue books.

The man spoke with a coarse voice, but Esurio could sense the faint taint of excitement. A parseltongue had not been seen in over a decade, and a parselcaster in even longer. Some men just wanted to watch the world burn. "You can have them, though I cannot attest to their contents, as you can imagine. I have, over the years, collected six books, three of which are standalone books, which each cover one branch of parselmagic. The Latin on the inside of each cover says as much, but it does not say what said branches actually are, that you shall have to discover for yourself. The other three are a set, one through to three of parselmagic history, including the wizards of your line who have used it, and what each has added to the talent. Again, I can tell you no more – only what the Latin says. I can see as your eyes light up that these three interest you greatly, but I would recommend putting them off for a few years. Perhaps it is not my place to say so... But the most recent generations of your line have had some profound ideas and contributions to parselmagic, many of which are not suitable for one of your age. I do not need to understand parseltongue to know what the last Slytherin Heir did with that knowledge, and I implore you – take caution with your power, or it will consume you."

With that, he hobbled towards the door from which he came, and reappeared a few short seconds later with the six books, and handed them to Harry. They were huge – how could the little sack of bones that the shopkeeper was carry all of them? And of similar make to the first book he saw on entering; leather-bound and stitched wording. Putting the three books on Parsel history to one side, he read the titles of the three standalone books.

The first, Transformations, Transfigurations and Serpent Lore, History and Control. This would be useful immediately. Something he could study from in Hogwarts, as clearly he'd already managed the most basics in this area, and he was excited to finally get the chance to progress.

The second, Ruling The Dynasty Of Wizardry. Well, that was well out of his scope for now. A quick flick through the first few pages revealed the overwhelming contents of this book – destruction and war. He could imagine it becoming most useful in the future, but for now certainly not something he could look into too heavily at Hogwarts.

And finally, the third book. Of Death, Of the Soul, and of Immortality. Wow. He was awestruck. Within three pages the book had described a parseltongue ritual so in-depth that he could almost understand it now, and it appeared to be a way to survive something called the killing curse, if you had time to prepare beforehand. It didn't take much to figure out exactly what a killing curse did, and the knowledge to survive it was here, in his hands. A quick flick through the rest, which basically looked like gibberish to him, and he realised that again, this was not something he could use much at Hogwarts, but at least it was his.

Did the shopkeeper know just what treasures he had held? How could he, if he couldn't read parseltongue, and yet these books... They were jewels of no small value to him. He couldn't wait to get back, and he had no compunction about spending the entirety of the next week reading from the first of the three.

Three days had passed since acquiring his first books on parseltongue, and Harry hadn't stepped out of the inn once. Esurio had often gotten bored of the same four walls, and been out to hunt more than once, which was overindulging for a snake. Harry had no such problem, the things contained within the pages of the first book, which he had come to refer to as 'TTC', for Transfigurations, Transformations and Control, were of amazing interest to him. With Esurio's basic teaching back in Privet Drive, he'd learnt the very starting steps of the book, and he had been pressing on with the work on internal parselmagic for sixteen hours a day. What he had initially felt as the parselmagic flowing in his blood from his chest to his palm was now a raging inferno filling his entire body, from which he could draw on in split seconds to change his body to suit his will. He could strengthen bones and deaden nerves such that punching the wall with all his strength felt like fluffing a pillow, and he could enhance his hearing such that even Esurio slithering slowly across the floor sounded like a saw cutting into wood.

In short, he was acting exactly as you'd expect an eleven year old to act had you given them a brand new, expensive new toy.

The days were fast approaching September 1st, where Harry would finally travel to Hogwarts on the train, which, incidentally, would be the first time he would meet his fellow students, both first years and above. He certainly didn't count the meeting in Flourish and Blotts, though he doubted those Ravenclaws would forget him any time soon! He'd had some time to think about his fellow year students, and the houses they'd soon be joining. He knew that thanks to the bonding, he was slightly more mature than the others would be, though this was often only seen when his subconscious felt it was needed. He also felt like he would be more inclined to study than perhaps the stoutest of Ravenclaw students, although Esurio had told him he could expect some students similar to him in Slytherin, just without the parsel talent and less powerfully magical. School was of course for learning, he knew that, but it seemed like a good idea to build a name for himself in the school. The most esteemed of his ancestors had done so for various reasons, from simple academic excellence in one or more subjects, or even sporting accomplishments in quidditch, which he could vaguely recall Esurio mentioning some time ago.

The only problem was, he had no idea _how_ to go about this. He was a parselmouth due to his lineage, and had training in that, to what he thought was a decent level already, thanks to Esurio and his books, and he knew he was more powerful than average as a result, giving him some confidence that he would do well in school.. But then what? Esurio had quietly returned from hunting, and had noticed the pensive look on Harry's face.

"_Speaker I can see what bothers you, and you should not worry. I assure you, the seven years in guided education is a long time, and you will have plenty of time to accomplish all your goals. Do not be so hasty to dismiss the social side of these years. Do not forget – some of your ancestors have been international quidditch players, and your family treated them with as much respect as the magically strong. The very fortune you shall come into is built from those players, and the business-minded. Magical strength you have, but it is just one thing that you'll need in your lifetime. I suggest you take some time off your studies for the first few weeks. Settle into lessons, into your house, make friends – who knows what they can offer you – and you'll be fine."_

He was right, Harry knew. Not having had any friends in infant school or at Privet drive had made it a difficult concept for Harry to grasp, but simply being with Esurio every day had given him some direction, since Esurio was somewhat of a friend, albeit a slightly different type!

Still, it was getting late, and he'd been early to head to Gringotts. This wasn't just your normal fatigue either, playing with all that internal parselmagic had left his body physically tired. Esurio had already left again, though for what Harry had no idea. The snake had eaten far too much lately, and had been hunting far too often.

Slowly, but surely, his eyes closed and his dreams about Hogwarts and magic and friends began.

* * *

Well guys, next chapter is going to be on the way to Hogwarts, so now is the time to review and tell me the sort of things you're liking and not liking! Already had some great suggestions and ideas that were very similar to what I had planned in past reviews, so keep it up! Thanks :)


	8. Chapter 8

Going to a new school was terrifying for most young children. Harry had never experienced such, having always been placed wherever Dudley had attended, but standing near the fireplace of the inn waiting for his turn in the floo – which sounded immensely cool! – had his hands shaking and his palms sweating. All his worries were flying round his head constantly; he knew no-one at all, would he be an outcast like he was at The West Sussex Primary College? The clever ones in his class there were always really popular, and they always helped their friends with projects and homework...

Finally, after an oddly dressed wizard had jumped into the green flames, Harry was up to experience floo for the first time. Stepping forward and taking a deep breath he walked under the hearth and into the flames, shivering as the ticklish feeling enveloped him. Esurio was wrapped around his shoulders with his tail-end dropping down Harry's back, and it was the snake's first time through a floo path too. They needn't worry, the travel was almost instant in floo networks, and sure enough they appeared from a much smarter, cleaner fireplace facing an enormous train – The Hogwarts Express.

Around them the platform was in chaos. Adults and children alike were running around, catching up with others and shouting at groups overhead. Older students were meeting their friends, and Harry noticed straight away that – of the ones who were in robes already – they stuck with their house. Short of some of the eldest students acknowledging others of their age from Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, everyone was strictly house-only. The great clock on the wall showed ten fought-eight, and slowly but surely the student mass boarded the train while parents withdrew. His fellow first years were easy to pick out of a crowd, partly because they were all alone with nervous looks on their faces and partly because everyone had woven a small circle of space around him after seeing a snake on his shoulders, often whispering and pointing – and not even troubling to hide it!

Harry dropped Esurio rather suddenly, he knew the snake didn't mind, and moved towards the closest door. The crowd around it parted for the metallic grey snake, granting Harry easy access. What was their problem with snakes, he thought. They were acceptable magical pets and familiars; it was like everyone had never seen one! Fortunately for the population of the Hogwarts Express, Harry and his snake found a compartment barely 10 feet from the door that had only one student in it, an older Ravenclaw who was already in uniform, sporting a shining badge proclaiming him as a prefect.

The minute Harry crossed into the threshold the prefect spoke. "Excuse me, you can't bring a snake to Hogwarts, it's against the rules. You're a first year aren't you, yes, well the letter clearly states an owl, a cat or a frog. You should take that snake back to your parents immediately, the train will be leaving shortly!"

Harry just looked at him. What an idiot. And a Ravenclaw to boot, were they all that stupid? What a great standard Hogwarts set for its prefects, this one didn't even know the rules.

"Mr..." Harry began.

"Tyneside, Evan Tyneside, and I'm a Ravenclaw pr – "

Harry cut him off. "A perfect, yes, I can see that, and so you'll be perfectly aware that familiars are allowed at Hogwarts, regardless of what animal they are."

The student sputtered at that. "Preposterous, you can't have a familiar at eleven years old! I'll be bringing this to Professor McGonagall's attention the instant we arrive, you can be sure of that!"

And with that, he stormed out. About as easy as it was going to get, and he hadn't even revealed his parseltongue yet. He now had the full carriage to himself, and in a move of fitful selfishness, he instructed Esurio to spread out on one side, in full view of the door to hopefully put off any potential annoyances! So far he'd only encountered Ravenclaw students, in Diagon Alley and here at the station, but he imagined the snake would keep any more away. It also served some sort of test, surely the Slytherins wouldn't be so bothered about the snake, and would sit here, which would be an ideal icebreaker for those most likely to become his housemates.

Surely enough, shortly after the rumbling wheels of the train had started moving and the windows had left the station behind, his first 'visitors' appeared. Two young students, neither in uniform, a young girl with buck-teeth and extremely bushy hair and a male of similar height with shocking red hair and dirt on his face. The girl had opened the door and stopped the male entering the instant she saw the snake, and proceeded to repeat the same spiel the prefect had – no snakes, no this, no that, breaking rules, professor would hear about it... Blah blah blah. It all went in one ear and out the other, and upon realising it the girl dragged her friend away, slamming the door. Harry realised he was on a fast track to a horrible headache if this continued.

His next visitor was clearly one of Evan's friends. Older, and already in her Ravenclaw robes and uniform, she walked right in and stood before Harry.

"Evan said there was a first year with a snake, no-one's ever brought a snake as a pet, it's not allowed you know. Why have you?" She asked, stressing the 'said', as if to say she hadn't believed him at first.

Harry put it down to their Ravenclaw tendencies – in pursuit of knowledge. "Surely Mr Tyneside told you that I'd not just brought a snake, but my familiar," he said, drawing out the word familiar so it sunk in, "familiars are always allowed at Hogwarts, since it is considered unruly to separate a familiar from their master. It just so happens that mine is a snake, not that that is a problem of course," he finished smoothly.

"But... You're eleven! Eleven year olds don't have familiars, everyone knows that, so why did you bring a snake?"

Urgh. House of the intelligent? You must be joking, he thought. Esurio hadn't even bothered to move, this was all beneath him. He'd eaten twice the night before, knowing he would be unable to eat all day today, and after over-indulging he was sleeping, like he always did.

Harry considered for a moment. Perhaps he could put the famed Ravenclaw intelligence to the test here, students were allowed to do magic on the train, despite school not having started just yet. "I believe there is a spell to test the bond between a familiar and their master. If an animal is indeed not a familiar, the spell simply does nothing, yes?" She nodded, confirming his statement. "Then I'll allow you to cast the spell on us once and once only. I'm sure you've realised by now that Esurio – that's my snake by the way – is asleep, and the spell will wake him and let me tell you this - he gets grumpy when he gets woken unwillingly. Go on, cast the spell, if you can do it," with extra emphasis on the 'can', reverse psychology thus making the student want to cast it even more.

She just nodded once more and withdrew her wand. Drawing a breath she spoke the spell, her voice rising in volume at the end. "Revelare familiaritatem vinculum!" Sure enough, the spell revealed the clear, strong bond between Harry and Esurio. As predicted Esurio had woken up, no doubt feeling the magic rush through him, and coiled upwards leaning towards the girl, exposing his fangs. The girl ran back the way she came, most likely back to the compartment that Evan Tyneside was currently residing in, to spread the news – that the first year student and his snake were in fact really bonded. Queue that headache right up, thought Harry.

"_Why did you let her do that Speaker, you knew I was sleeping."_

Harry turned, sat back down on his side opposite Esurio and spread out before answering. _"She wouldn't leave, and she was pestering me about you. Now she knows we're bonded no doubt the whole train will soon enough, so I won't let anyone else cast that spell. Go back to sleep, we only left the station half an hour ago, there is a long time to go yet."_

Esurio just flicked his tongue out in response and resumed his previous position, covering the whole seat that side of the compartment. Harry expected some more attention soon enough, perhaps from other houses, now that the Ravenclaws had had their fill of his situation already.

He was wrong. A small boy, most likely first year too, walked in calmly, took one look at the snake and sat down at the end of Harry's side, turning to look at Harry instead of the snake. The boy had pale blonde hair which was borderline white, gelled neatly into a smart style, and was wearing immaculate clothing. Harry was thankful he had new clothes from his time at the inn, because sitting here in Dudley's cast-offs would have looked terrible. The boy was not yet wearing any of his Hogwarts uniform, but one could only assume he would end up a Slytherin. Who else could so easily ignore a four foot long snake and calmly sit down near it.

He spoke in a calm way too, confirming that the snake clearly didn't bother him. "I saw you on the platform with this snake. Suppose word is true, he really is your familiar. Do you know why you have a snake familiar?"

Harry chose not to reveal his name or talent just yet. Confident that he was that this boy was clearly a Slytherin, and so would eventually find out – sooner rather than later, given how intent he was not to hide it. "I have no idea, I just know he is my familiar because of a trip to Gringotts. "

"The goblins certified it, did they? That's all the confirmation I need, they never get it wrong. Well, you're going to be a Slytherin, that's for sure. I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'll be in Slytherin too. My family has been in Slytherin for centuries with no exceptions."

Ahha. Harry felt a lot safer revealing himself now, since what the boy – Malfoy – had said was true. The Malfoy family were always Slytherins, and were usually a powerfully magical family. The books he'd gotten from the alleys had mentioned some of the oldest families, and this boy belonged to one of them.

Perhaps uncomfortable with the uneasy silence, although not showing it openly, Draco spoke again. "Say, what was your name? I didn't see you stood with anyone at the platform."

A good job he'd added the second bit, Harry thought, since he was asking for a family name, much to know more about him the way Harry did after finding out his companion was a Malfoy. Here goes, he guessed.

He took a deep, audible breath and faced Draco. "Slytherin. Harrison Slytherin, although I prefer Harry for now."

Draco Malfoy gave a sharp snort. "From Slytherin's line. I doubt that, it died out over a decade ago, there was only one last heir and he died childless. Your family can't be more important than my own, the Malfoy's are quite simply one of the prime families of wizarding Britain, there is no use lying to me to look more impressive."

Harry knew he'd say that. He also knew how he was going to answer it. Reaching across the compartment, he poked Esurio just below his head, which was guaranteed to make him pay attention. Sure enough, Esurio looked directly at him.

"_Our friend here doubts I'm a Slytherin, perhaps this will show him."_

Esurio didn't answer, merely bridged the gap between the sides of the carriage and coiled around Harry's shoulders again, before rising above Harry's head and facing the newcomer.

Turning to face Draco again, Harry saw the shock on his face. The boy clearly knew he really was talking to a Slytherin.

"You... You are a Slytherin... I thought... You're the last Slytherin then... You're the Lord Slytherin aren't you," he said in a panicked voice while pointing. He realised what he was doing too, "oh err... I ... Err... My apologies, I didn't mean to point Lord Slytherin! I am pl –"

Harry cut him off. What a joke, they were eleven years old going to school for the first time. He didn't need all that crap just yet.

"Draco!" he said, sternly, "yes, I'm the last Slytherin, but I don't need all that yet! We're going to be living in the same tower, sharing the same common room and classes, treat me as you would any other student! The goblins take care of the Slytherin estates and lines until I come of age, so i'm only Lord Slytherin in name until seventeen. Anyway, enough of that." He instructed Esurio to move back over to the other side, and not to take the whole seat up, for he was sure some more potential Slytherins would join them soon. Facing Draco again, he started up - "Forget all that for now, all I ask is that you keep my identity secret within Slytherin house. As of now, you are the only one aware, although I'll be letting Slytherin house know after the sorting. Also, just call me Harry, none of that Slytherin stuff yet. Until I publicly claim the bloodline, I'm actually called Harry Potter, which is another surname I'm sure you'll recognise. As for my parentage, don't ask, I have no idea. Truly none, and it's something I'll be working on here at Hogwarts.

"Okay..." Draco mumbled.

"Oh come on Draco! Treat me as any other Slytherin friend... If that's what we are of course. We're here for the same things, cheating on homework, annoying Gryffindors and acing tests with full marks. Now, tell me as much as you know about Hogwarts, since I'm woefully outdated."

And with that, and his moving into a comfortable slouch, Draco must have finally realised that despite being the last Slytherin that he really was just another Hogwarts student, a fellow Slytherin house member and clearly on his way to becoming fast and loyal friends. The next few hours passed with the two swapping what they knew, what they wanted from Hogwarts, Draco telling Harry about all his acquaintances from Slytherin due to their house being business partners with many other Slytherin families, and insisting that Harry become part of their circle of friends immediately! Harry could see that being the obvious outcome, but he was still a little wary before meeting more of them. Revealing his identity to a Malfoy was a smart move, his new friend's family would know soon enough, and they'd become much-needed allies within the wizarding world and since he had no-one else, they'd be necessary.

As the time passed, more of the Slytherin children appeared, mostly to talk to Malfoy. Four of them had stayed in the compartment after catching up with Draco. There was a dark-haired, pale-skinned girl called Daphne Greengrass, her friend Tracey Davis, a lanky, quiet boy called Theodore Nott and finally Blaise Zabini. Draco had known all four since they were young, their families often getting together to celebrate birthdays and to deal with business and ministerial issues, of which the youngsters didn't discuss too deeply! Harry had simply been introduced by his first name, and Daphne had immediately picked up on the lack of a given surname and the snake – now curled up t the end of the bench leaving room for the others – and given Harry a sharp look, which he'd taken to mean that she suspected his real heritage. The others didn't mention it though, and Daphne had the sense not to, however it was clear that she'd be cornering Harry on it once they arrived.

Blaise was enlightening the compartment on his mother's latest divorce, after Draco had caught Harry up with the Zabini family history – which he'd found hilarious. Apparently his mother had just been widowed for a _seventh_ time, which was clearly not a coincidence and Harry had to ask just how wizards kept falling for it. In answer, Draco had just shown him a picture, and all was clear.

"Attention all students. We will shortly be arriving at Hogsmeade Station, please be in your uniform prior to arrival. Your belongings will be taken to the school separately."

Draco groaned. "Suppose we better change, none of us are ready and Father told me they play that message ten minutes before we get there. Daphne and Tracey, go back to the Slytherin compartment and send the other boys here."

The lake was calm as Harry, Esurio and the rest of the first years and their various pets crossed. Through the darkness and mist you could vaguely see the tentacles of what Hagrid proclaimed to be a giant squid, harmless he'd said it was, the man clearly had a fascination for monsters. The school loomed large sat atop the cliff top, from this direction almost a sheer vertical drop. You could see the edges of the forest bordering the lake, trailing almost the full circle around the school. Above it all the towers raised into the stars, little squares of lights dotted evenly upon them. Harry stared in amazement like the other first years. Being told about Hogwarts was one thing, seeing it for the first time was something altogether different. For Harry, more so than the others – the patriarch of his line was part of this school. He was one of the four who built it. Harry felt closer to 'home' already, wherever that was. He knew instinctively that during his time here he'd find what he wanted to know.

Sailing through the small gap in the cliff face the boats bumped to a stop along a short harbour for the students to clamber out onto, and only one exit – stairs, up the to school. Hagrid arrived first and was stood waiting at the foot of the passage until the last students had departed their boats.

"Come on now, up to the hall we go," the giant of a man said in his booming voice. Walking onwards, leading the group, he spoke again. "We be passing through the dungeons o'course, some of you be returnin' no doubt, Slytherin house lives down here..." He trailed off at that. Draco and Harry shared a look that conveyed volumes. The man was clearly one of the prejudiced lot against Slytherin.

The dungeons were empty. Harry knew that the carriages taking the older years were much faster; they'd all be in the great hall awaiting the feast Daphne had told him about. Bit silly having the nervous first years enter and be sorted in front of everyone, Harry thought. At a second thought, he realised it wasn't so bad for him. He knew he'd be a Slytherin, and the others that had sat with him on the train clearly thought they would be too.

Coming up into the antechamber, Harry whispered to Esurio so quietly no-one could hear it. Esurio dropped to the floor silently and slithered back to where they had come from – the dungeons. Under Harry's instruction, he was to find the Slytherin common room door and wait either near it or in it if he could pass through. Taking the snake into the hall was clearly not going to be a good idea, in spite of the fact that most of the train would have heard of or seen the snake by now. Still, only one person knew of his parsel talent and for now it'd be staying that way. Let them wonder, he thought, as Hagrid instructed them to wait for McGonagall.

The room was deathly quiet; everyone was clearly either nervous or scared. Once again he realised how stupid it was having the first years sorted in front of everyone, starting a new school was bad enough without being paraded around for entertainment. Within minutes, the school ghosts had erupted into the room, shocking those who clearly hadn't been informed of their existence. Draco had caught him up early on in the train journey regarding the spiritual beings, and Harry was glad for it.

A door opened. "My name is Professor McGonagall. I'm the transfiguration teacher here, and the deputy headmistress to boot. Follow me, the sorting is about to begin," she said in her broad Scottish accent. Incidentally, it looked like that Ravenclaw prefect hadn't had time to report Harry and his snake to the professor, since she appeared either not to care or not to know.

The first years did as instructed, although some were trying not to be at the front of the line. Useless, given that they were sorted alphabetically by surname anyway.

Sure enough, as the great doors clanged open the whole school was staring, searching inquisitively. Most of the first years looked crazy now, having not realised what they were being stared at for. Draco and Harry shared another look – it was odd how the two of them were so similar in thought processes – which if anything looked exasperated. A new year at school and all the student body cared about was a snake rumour. Of course, those who had met Harry in some form - Evan Tyneside was pointing directly at him - and the others he'd passed on the train or station were all staring at him with disappointed looks. Some of Evan's friends were clearly jeering at him for apparently being wrong.

The professor turned next to a rickety stool and frayed hat and address the first years. "When I call your name you are to sit on the stool and put on the hat. This is the sorting hat, and will determine within house you will spend your time here at Hogwarts. Now then," she looked down at the list, "Bernard Alphwick."

The boy lumbered forward. He was one of those who looked scared out of their wits. That and the look on Malfoy's face made an obvious conclusion – muggleborn. This division within the wizarding world had been explained at large by Draco and Theo, one of the few times the normally quiet boy had spoken.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat exclaimed. Draco just smirked. Useless house for a useless muggleborn in his opinion, and Harry was starting to agree. Seventy percent of the table he joined looked barely capable of wearing their uniform properly and of those he'd have guessed half looked like pushovers.

A few more names passed and Slytherin had gotten the least new students so far by a clear mile, however the first of their 'group', Tracey Davis, had become the first of them. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had received the most – this was not going to be a fun year group to be in Harry thought.

"Daphne Greengrass please," the professor called for the second time. Daphne had been at the back of the line due to being on the very last boat, and was struggling to pass through. The teacher was clearly getting impatient. It didn't take the hat long to call Slytherin, making the second of their group a Slytherin. A few more names passed to various houses, although only Gregory Goyle became a Slytherin, which was odd because his best pal Crabbe had been sent to Hufflepuff.

Draco was up next. The hat exclaimed Slytherin the instant it touched his head, and Draco smirked at the entire hall. Whispers were already going around about his family and how dark they were, indeed some of the Hufflepuffs near the line of first years were discussing all the proof they had – how laughably quaint.

Theodore Nott was called shortly after Draco, and again the hat didn't take long to sort him into Slytherin either. For all that this sorting was supposed to be, Harry thought it easily predictable. All of the so-called Slytherin families simply kept having children being sorted into Slytherin, and it appeared Gryffindor had the same principle judging by the numerous redheaded freckled types. Family of the idiotic first year that had been with buck-tooth at the start of the train journey, he was clearly destined for the house of the stupidly-courageous.

They were getting close now. Would the hat call Harry Potter, after his Mother's surname through marrying into the Potter line, or Harry Slytherin, his real family name?

The professor checked the list, and called the next name. "Harry Potter."

He stepped up, certain the hat wouldn't be on his head long, similar to Draco. Harry had barely passed the front of the ever-shortening line of first years when the hat exclaimed Slytherin in its clear voice.

He hadn't even put the hat on.

The hall was silent.

McGonagall was dumbstruck.

And behind them all, the sparkle in the headmaster's eye had been extinguished instantly.


	9. Chapter 9

The silence lasted what seemed an age. All around him the students just stared – with one exception. Draco was smirking widely. Fortunately no-one had noticed, or they'd be sure to ask him what he knew that they were missing.

Harry decided to act normal. He had a feeling that the hat could sense founder bloodlines and that he wasn't the first person to experience this situation in Hogwarts history, so there was nothing for it but to saunter over to the Slytherin table, sneering at the Hufflepuffs staring nearby and turning to match Draco's smirk. As the seconds passed he felt... Untouchable. This was his house and the Hat and its castle had recognised it. He was a true Slytherin right at home.

Draco had shoved Goyle down a little so Harry could sit next to him, and the instant Harry's behind touched the bench Slytherin house gave another sign that it recognised its own.

Each house had a giant banner draped from the ceiling in line with their table; Slytherin was no exception and had a great snake on a silver and green banner. The banners were still, and none at Hogwarts had ever known otherwise – until now.

The snake moved within its homely banner and began to hiss quietly, but the volume of the hissing was increasing. Snape, seated almost directly beneath the banner heard it first and turned to inspect whatever the noise was. Several Slytherins noticed Snape, and thus noticed the banner hissing and slithering within its banner. Eventually the whole hall had noticed, and once again was silent. Slowly but surely they turned to Harry.

What the hell, he thought, that's not my fault! How could anyone connect that to him, he'd done nothing this time! He knew they just assumed it was to do with him after the antics with the hat.

McGonagall seemingly had had enough of the abnormalities, for she'd used her wand to make several loud bangs and called the next name, one Davey Purnish, as if nothing had happened. Davey became a Ravenclaw, not that many people cared at this point. The rumour mill was already well into operation, every house table had clusters grouped and whispering. Draco and Harry shared what was clearly going to become a famous smirk between the pair. Oh how the next seven years would be fun!

The sorting was over not long later, and Dumbledore had stood to give his customary speech. Usually, a third year was telling Harry, Dumbledore was chirpy and delightful at the new-year feast however this time that was clearly not the case. To anyone not looking too deeply, he appeared fine, but most of the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws could see otherwise.

The old man stood. "Welcome, welcome! To another year of magical study here at Hogwarts! Now, I'm sure you don't wish to wait any longer for the magnificent feast, so I shall keep your attention only a short while longer. Filch has asked that you all check the list of banned items, for it has been updated once again, and I believe is now one-hundred and eighty-six feet long! Dear me, it wasn't so long in my days as a student here!" Pausing, the headmaster looked around the room from his left to right, which meant starting at the Gryffindor table. And ending at the Slytherin table. His last paused look at Harry was subtle but worrying for the young boy. Had the theatrics of the sorting told Dumbledore more than he needed to know at this point? "Well then all, I hope you have a wonderful year, but for now... Enjoy the feast!" and at that he clapped his hands once in a grand gesture, filling the tables with rich choices and varieties of food and drinks.

As students tucked into their starters they began to speak with their new housemates, and the Slytherin table were abuzz with energy. Harry had been inundated with questions and had answered none but the briefest so far. A Potter in Slytherin was weird enough without the stage show he'd gotten anyway. Draco flung his name around a bit to great success and the pressure on Harry dropped to a manageable level – notably his fellow first years from the train and one or two second years.

September the first had fallen on a Saturday this year, meaning the students would have Sunday to acquaint themselves with each other and the castle before timetables and classes would start early Monday morning. Most of them were thankful, although as they left some of the Ravenclaws were jumping the gun and working already. Harry mentally snorted. Working so hard and they'd never been as strong as him, magically speaking. Poor souls.

A Slytherin prefect was lecturing the first years as they made their way to the dungeons. Slytherin house held itself above the other three famed houses of Hogwarts and as a result, students did not all share rooming and washroom facilities – instead two students per a room, with their own private bathroom attached. The prefect also went through some common room rules, during which Draco interrupted with some amusing, but troubling, extras.

"Hah, he's telling us the school-audited version. Slytherin is lead by a ruler, and that ruler is going to be you Harry. Once you prove your bloodline they'll be yours, and the common room rules will be yours for the changing."

"Draco," Harry started, "I don't intend to share my real family name for some time yet... You're the obvious candidate to lead. For all seven years actually. Your family name is well known, highly respected and gets you what you want here. You should use it and become the leader... Perhaps even after I reveal my heritage. Anything I want done I can merely have done through you, everyone has realised you are clearly closest to me of our fellow first years. Sound good to you?"

Draco's eyes lit up like beacons in the darkness. He'd wanted to be the Slytherin prince since the days his Father had told him that he'd held the position from second year till the day he left. After meeting the Slytherin heir on the train he'd momentarily forgotten his aim, and later on set it aside knowing his father would accept second place to a true Slytherin, but now he could have it all. Leadership and his friend... They were friends right? His father had told him most people in Slytherin weren't friends but merely acquaintances, but Harry genuinely felt like a friend to him, and he really wanted it to stay that way.

Harry felt a sense of elation. He'd just been a Slytherin, right then! Offering leadership to Draco, knowing Draco would do as he asked because he knew his real family name. Like a puppet on strings, Harry thought. Inwardly, he was smirking, that'd had made his night and seemingly made Draco very happy.

They'd almost reached the section of wall that Esurio had passed through earlier, and all of a sudden, as the group approached, the door slid open. No-one had uttered a word to it, least of all the prefects, and since only they knew the password...

"Who did that? Who knows the password already?" Angelica asked. Angelica Montague was the female Slytherin prefect, a sixth year who was widely respected for her academic achievements, Draco had mentioned earlier. Since her first year, she'd been top of their year group for total exam score over all subjects, consistently beating the Ravenclaws of her year, much to their disappointment.

Draco just looked at Harry, but no-one spoke. Harry had an idea why the door had opened. Why would the house of Slytherin require a password of its own bloodline? A pattern was forming here. The hat didn't need to judge a Slytherin heir to know within which house he'd belong. The banner felt a Slytherin heir return to Hogwarts, and was showing it. The door didn't need a password from its own. At least I'll never forget the password, Harry thought, snorting mentally. Like he'd ever do that anyway.

After long enough, Angelica must have given up, because she'd led them into the Slytherin common room and begun to introduce herself and others.

"Ok, I'm Angelica Montague, sixth year and one of your two prefects. At the back of the group is Hayden Damasus, the second Slytherin prefect. Within the house we're here to help you, but you're expected to fend for yourself. We are _not_ here to do your homework, or listen to you whining about a Gryffindor who called you names. Most of you will have had a lot of information given by your parents, but for those who have not – Slytherin's do not share dormitories, you shall instead share a room between two. Once you have agreed with another, go to Hayden and he'll assign you a room. Since we have tomorrow before classes start, the rest, as well as meeting Professor Snape – he's our head of house – will be done then. Now, it's late, so I suggest you get your rooms sorted and spend some time reading your first year books before sleeping. Turning up to classes unprepared is _not_ our style," she lectured, stressing the word not to the first years.

Harry shrugged most of that off. His rooming was sorted – Draco obviously being his partner, and he'd read most of his books from cover to cover at the inn. He was also well ahead, or at least he thought he was, in practical magic, that is to say casting, and even if he wasn't he had parselmagic to fall back on, casting couldn't be much different surely. Suddenly, he had an exciting thought! Their rooms were private between the two sharing it, something no other house had. He could show Draco anything, and talk openly with him in their room!

Whispering, "Draco go to Hayden and get our room, I've got something to show you, you'll love it I promise."

The gleam in the boy's eye was clear, and he rushed off to Hayden being the first one there. The others were still debating who to room with, which made Harry think it was a ridiculous idea to make them do it considering most of them didn't know each other. Fortunately, Draco's little group did and had partnered off effectively and predictably, for instance Daphne and Tracey.

Hayden had given the two the first room on the left, which was literally two steps from the stairs and ten steps down to the common room. Perfect.

"Shut the door, and look at these. I got these a week ago from a bookshop in Knockturne Alley, they're –" at which point Draco interrupted.

"Oh brilliant! I prefer to shop in Knockturne Alley myself, much less restricted and there is much more choice. I'm so glad you'll fine down there, those scared of the place really are missing out!"

Harry just glared at him. Draco was as vain as a girl clearly. Harry had seen the multiple, expensive clothes shops in Knockturne Alley when he'd been there, and recognised some of Draco's robe styles from them.

"Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted with rubbish," Harry snorted, "I got these books," as he handed them to Draco.

"What the hell are these... Squiggles? I can read the latin, my mother taught me years ago..." The look on his face changed, as recognition dawned. "These are written in parseltongue, aren't they."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He'd connected the dots. "You have six? Are they good? What's in them?"

Harry could tell they'd get along fantastically. Draco had the same pursuit of knowledge that he had.

"Oh, they're good," he answered. "I'm not going to tell you everything now obviously, because I don't understand most of it myself yet, but I can show you what I was capable of doing with Esurio's help and the first of these six books. I call it 'TTC', because the real title is stupidly long and fancy, but it's really called 'Transformations, Transfigurations and Serpent Lore, History and Control' and it's bloody brilliant. Listen, I already learnt to do internal transfiguration before I got this, but I can do it so much better now. Watch!"

With that, he turned his tongue into that of a snake, and his pupils into those of a snake too. His sight enhanced my many degrees and his sense of smell rocketed. But, he'd found a better use for the sight – snakes could pick up movement instantly, like having a reaction time of zero and it was something he could show Draco now.

Flicking his tongue out as he spoke, which gave his normal speech an extra degree of sibilance, he addressed Draco again. "Ok, try and hit me."

At Draco's look, he insisted. "Forget the tongue a minute! Try and hit me!"

Draco noticed the pupils at that point, and realised Harry had planned something. Ok, he thought, two can play at that game. There's no way he can stop me hitting him at close range, no-one is that fast! And with that, he launched himself at Harry... Only for Harry to sidestep and Draco to go plunging into Harry's bed, opposite his own.

"Try again Draco," Harry said, trying his hardest not to laugh.

This time, Draco took a steady stance with his feet and attempted to punch at Harry, only for his fist to go driving into Harry's open hand, which had moved impossibly fast that Draco had barely registered it. He gave Harry that 'look', the 'explain now or else' look that he'd perfected on the family house elves. Harry took the hint.

"Snakes see things much faster than we do. Don't ask me how, I asked Esurio that and what came out of his mouth made no sense whatsoever. All I know is that while I have snake pupils, I can see movements the instant they start and not only that, but their 'path' becomes obvious. Like you trying to punch, I could see your arm... It's hard to explain. It's almost like I saw you hand and arm tense ready to punch, then the action started and it was clear to me where you'd try and hit, so I could move my hand there at the same time. Get what I mean?"

Draco considered for a moment, but he did understand. And the ramifications of it were running through his mind already. "You're never going to lose a duel, are you. How can anyone beat you when you see things the instant they happen with those eyes? Part of duelling well is being able to anticipate your opponent, some people can do it and some simply can't... With those eyes you'll be unbeatable!"

Both boys realised that he was speaking truthfully and collapsed on their beds laughing. Harry could see it now, side stepping spell after spell because he saw his opponent's action the instant they decided it. It'd be magnificent, and he was aching to try it out. That's something they could do in their spare time tomorrow, he thought.

Transforming his tongue and eyes back, Harry spoke again, having gained his breath back after all the laughing. "Ok, ok, enough. We really should go to sleep, you've read the books already haven't you," Harry asked. Sure enough, Draco had done as expected and read them all cover to cover like Harry.

"Yeah, I know, but it is Sunday tomorrow, we don't need to be up that early..."

"Hah, you heard Angelica – we're meeting Professor Snape tomorrow, and more Slytherin stuff that she hasn't told us yet. We should get up and get downstairs early, I don't want to be late for it.."

Draco snorted. "Harry, Snape is my godfather. He's not going to do anything for us being late. Actually, we have a small problem. He'll not challenge me for being late, but he might do for you... The hat called you Potter, and he hated James Potter... You should show him your true identity. I mean it. Ask for a binding oath – I can teach you the simplest, most effective one – and reveal your family name. That way we'll both get away with anything while we're here!"

"Right, right, one last thing and then we're going to try and sleep, I still want to be downstairs in time for their talk, ok?" Harry asked. Draco nodded, excited to see something else. Harry knew just the thing, something Draco could no doubt relate to.

"Ok, being a Malfoy you'll know of the 'serpensortia' spell right?" Continuing on without waiting for an answer, Harry took out his wand. "Parselmagic has its own version of that spell, with far more control. It has many parameters which are completely unavailable to normal wizards, since the spell was designed by a parseltongue of my line. Well, TTC has this spell covered in intense detail, it's a staple spell for tons of rituals and of course the snakes you conjure can be ordered to do almost anything, it's so brilliant and –"

Harry was rambling, as excited as he was, but Draco wanted to see something real and cut in – "Harry, I get it, I can imagine what is possible, now show me!"

"Hah," Harry mentally laughed, he was going on a bit too much! "Ok, the parameters themselves are easy enough to learn, but their capabilities aren't all possible for me yet."

At Draco's empty, confused look, Harry set out to explain. "For instance, when you cast serpensortia one hundred times, you'll get the same snake one hundred times. For each individual, they always get the same snake, size, colour, length, and power... the lot. It's always the same, something to do with how their magical core interprets the spell, and each person has their own interpretation. Well parselmouths can get around this. Watch."

"Serpensortia!" he intoned and the snake came barrelling from his wand, forming as it flew to the ground.

"Now, Draco, memorise that snake. That's 'my' snake, each time I cast that spell it's the same one.

"_Serpensortia gradus duo!" _and from his wand two of that same, previous snake came shooting forth, forming before they hit the floor. Both turned to Harry, awaiting instruction.

"Now, no normal wizard can do that simple adaptation, its parselmagic-exclusive. You could of course simply cast the spell twice, at the expense of more energy. Now watch again," Harry told the silent, attentive boy.

"_Serpensortia pythonis burmesia!" _

Draco was shocked. A snake that must have been twelve feet long materialised in their room. It was thicker than his neck, and of a similar colour scheme to Esurio, Harry's familiar. The huge python raised its neck and head to Harry, again like the previous snakes, awaiting instruction.

Harry sought to give a show. He spoke to the snake quietly in parseltongue. _"Coil near the door, guard it with your life. Do not bite anyone, just threaten." _Then looking back at Draco, he instructed the boy to try and leave the room.

"Honestly Draco, " Harry said laughing, "he won't hurt you, I've just instructed it to stop you leaving the room. Try it!"

Draco wasn't a Gryffindor by any means, but he did as told, and sure enough the snake reacted by uncoiling to Draco's height and hissing menacingly in his face. Draco took the hint and retreated back to his bed without taking his eyes off the snake. Harry gave a short laugh and ended the spell.

"See how useful the adaptations to the spell can be? No-one would be scared of a foot long snake from a normal cast of that spell, but the parameters can make it much more useful!"

Draco was still a little shocked from having a huge python hissing in his face. Harry knew he wasn't scared as such, it just wasn't an every-day occurrence. He'd get used to it anyway; Harry had excessive plans for that spell and some of its more dangerous parameters.

"Anyway, it's getting late and we really do need to go to sleep! Tomorrow is our first real day at Hogwarts!" Harry said. Inwardly, he was so excited. This school represented everything he wanted, had ties to his real family and recognised him. He'd also made what he felt sure was a friend for life in Draco, they were just so similar. Harry knew Draco was magically above average; all Malfoys were, often increasing each generation due to strict marriages. He also knew Draco was exceptional at Potions, something his father had taught him for years, and that was one area that Harry hadn't really done much in. You could read and read about potions but nothing substituted for real experience and practical work. He'd read enough to keep Snape happy anyway, and if Draco's idea worked he'd never get pestered anyway.

The two did wake early enough for the meeting the next day, although only just. Harry had woken first and conjured a python to wake Draco, which had Harry on the floor in laughter with ribs in agony, and Draco with a fixed scowl on his face and messed up bed covers as a result of his terrific struggle to get away from the huge thing! After promising never to do that again – Harry was mentally crossing his fingers! – they dressed and went to the common room. The two shared their familiar smirk, despite all the things they'd been discussing and doing the previous night no-one else in the room was even aware of who's presence they were in, nor just how extraordinary one of their new first years was.

Esurio had returned at some point during the night, presumably after hunting in the forest – something he'd been dying to do for weeks. The snake was moving slow and had a noticeable bump in his scales indicating that he'd been gluttonous again, but Harry couldn't care. Anything in the forest was clearly wild and fair game for the snake.

Angelica looked perfect, as usual. You'd never see her looking less than, Harry soon realised. She was all about perfection, in her studies and her appearance.

"Right, carrying on from last night. Rules," she said. Harry would have thought the older years would leave and go for breakfast, but Draco had caught his wandering eyes, realised what he was thinking and answered.

"They're waiting for us. It's Slytherin tradition for the older students to accompany us first years on the first morning, as a show of solidarity. No other house does it, despite Slytherins doing it for centuries. We'll have to do it next year and every year after, but no-one minds. It looks good... But... I've got an idea."

Harry hated that. Draco always did it. Told you he had an idea... And didn't tell you what it was, usually not until it was either in the process of being done or already over. Efficient no doubt, but annoying. He just scowled at the boy, Draco already knew what he thought of being left out of another 'Draco scheme'.

Meanwhile, Angelica continued droning on. Most of it was logical stuff – don't break rules where you might get caught, stick together outside of the dungeons, excel at your classes, yadda yadda yadda, Harry thought.

Entertaining a private thought, Harry was imagining a future where Slytherin house knew who he really was, and knew what he could do and he was the ruler. He'd be the leader, he'd be inducting the first years and they'd be in awe of him – a Slytherin heir, the last remaining of the founder's bloodlines. He chuckled out loud, earning him a funny look from some of the nearby students, just as Angelica led the procession out of the common room and towards the great hall.

Draco grabbed his arm lightly and pulled to the back of the line. No-one paid them any attention.

"As you walk into the hall, you need to command the snake behind the head table to remain still and silent. I have a feeling it's going to herald you every time you walk in if you don't shut it up, and that's going to draw attention and eventually people are going to figure out it's doing it for you. Just thinking it should be enough, Hogwarts is sentient enough to figure out what you want. Got it?" He whispered.

"yeah, good plan, didn't even think about something like that, I had no idea Hogwarts would listen. Something else your father told you?"

Draco answered with one word – "Mother," and starting dragging Harry to the front of the line again. They entered by year, first years first and so on, so Harry and Draco would be right behind Angelica, which told the other Slytherins their intentions. It was tradition for any aspiring rulers to state as such now, and any challenges to that rule to match their pace. Little things like this clearly meant much in Slytherin, Harry thought, but he was having none of it. Draco can do all that, and he'd just rule though him.

Hayden pushed the great, wooden doors open, and led by himself and Angelica the entirety of Slytherin house entered the hall.

The banner snake behind the head table began to slither in its place, hissing loudly once again.

Oops, Harry thought. Totally forgot to stop that, too busy thinking about all this Slytherin leader crap.

The whole hall was looking right at the Slytherins. Right at the front of the Slytherin line. Right at Draco... And Harry.

The hall was silent again, just like last night.

Harry sighed inwardly, this was going to get old and annoying fast. He just followed Hayden and Angelica to a table and sat down, ignoring the stares.

* * *

I spoil you guys! Two updates in a few days! Anyway, really enjoying writing this atm, so read and review, tell me what you like, your predictions and what you'd like to see! Nothing gives me motivation to keep writing than reviews, the story is for you guys so go for it! Going to try and get another update out within the next few days, so set yourself and alert and don't miss it! Classes will start in the next one, you don't want to miss it!


	10. Chapter 10

The entirety of Slytherin had gathered in the common room, for the first years to be introduced to the rest of the house. Harry was itching to go off and do his own thing, be it reading or looking around this huge castle, of which almost half was barely used. It felt like a long time since he'd made progress in TTC, and he also wanted to get back into that.

"Pssst... Harry? Are you even listening?" Draco asked, nudging him in the side.

"Yeah, I heard all the introductions anyway. I don't see why the keep us here, all us first years know each other, we'll have classes together every day too and the second years have been pretty social already. It's not like we're alienated in our own house is it." He complained in return.

Draco could tell Harry was still grumpy over his interrogation earlier, by some of the older students.

"A Potter in Slytherin... Are you sure?" an older student, perhaps fourth year, had asked. "We never get Potters, and I mean never. They always go into Gryffindor. Not even the Ravens get Potters, despite your line having had some real intelligence characters over the generations.

"Yeah, well, I don't know do I," Harry retorted, "the stupid hat didn't even get put on my head, how am I supposed to know?"

"Yeah, that was odd. Why didn't you need to wear the hat anyway? None of the staff questioned it, and we're wondering why they didn't. Also, what about the banner snake? That never happens, what made it do that?"

They'd just kept digging and digging and Harry was getting more and more annoyed.

"I. Don't. Know." He'd emphasised. "How the hell would you expect me to know, i only set foot in this castle for the first time twenty four hours ago, I don't hold all the answers!"

"Yeah, but..." the same fourth year started, "you have to admit it was pretty odd, I mean, it didn't do it for anyone else and you know," he stopped for a minute – thinking, "no-one else in all my time here has ever been sorted without putting the hat on. We should go ask Snape, he knows everything that goes on round here."

"No, don't go and ask Snape anything. Besides, how would he know either. Just drop it, will you, it's hardly important."

"No," the fourth year went on, "it clearly is. It's never happened before, and not for any other house. Only ours. Of course it means something! Maybe you're special and Hogwarts could tell or something!" He was looking around, trying to drum up support for his idea, but the rest of the Slytherins were keeping quiet, mostly looking tired and pensive. The boy's idea was dangerously close to the truth, and Harry was panicking slightly. It wasn't a huge jump from 'someone special that Hogwarts recognises' to 'Hogwarts recognised you so you're a descendant, clearly!'

At that moment, Esurio surfaced, sliding up the arm of the chair and round to the back over Harry's shoulders, whispering in his ear.

"_They've annoyed you have they, Speaker. I can see it. Do not worry, they'll drop the idea soon, just continue to give them nothing to work with and they'll be unable to form any solid conclusions. Once thy tired of a subject they'll soon enough forget it," _the snake whispered.

Fortunately, Esurio was capable of hissing so quietly into Harry's ear that unless you were crouched next to the snake you'd simply never hear it. The bond between them made certain that Harry did, though. Harry took in what the snake had said, but didn't answer it. He hadn't quite mastered the low volume hiss that Esurio used.

Eventually, like the snake had implied the students left to do their own thing, so Harry felt at ease to withdraw for some time. He still wanted to explore the castle, and he certainly wanted to map out the classrooms before the end of the day, there'd be no time before breakfast. For now, however, TTC was beckoning. Harry could tentatively feel the magic of the castle, and it made him want to study even more, to learn what others couldn't and to push himself past the boundaries of magic, and the only way he could do that was get the basic stuff out of the way – fast.

"Draco," he called, "come on, I have something interesting to show you," he said, giving the boy a pointed look. Draco caught on instantly, and followed.

Harry waited till the door was closed, sealing the room from outsiders somehow, sighed, and sat down on his bed. "That was a lie, by the way. I don't have anything to show you, but I want your help in something. The next section of TTC, and something i've done literally no work on, is using parselmagic to transfigure others. The same things I can do to myself, but to other people. Up for it?"

The question may as well have been rhetorical; Draco's eyes gleamed at the suggestion.

"Yes! Give me those eyes you had last night, I want to see how they differ! And you could secretly give me them before I duel too! If this stuff works on others you simply can't keep it to yourself!" He was almost bouncing on his bed. Harry hadn't mentioned last night that this stuff could be done on others by a learned parseltongue.

For Harry, this was a vital next step. The internal transformations required no incantation whatsoever, just focusing on the change and using his parselmagic to make it happen. Because Draco had no parselmagic, however, Harry had to incant the spell at him.

"_Serpens oculus transformare!"_

Draco knew it'd worked the instant Harry finished the last word. His sight became intensely clear, and he could see already how Harry saw everything as it happened. He could also see very lightly into the infrared spectrum, though the ability was clearly weak.

"Harry, can you make the infrared part stronger? That could be immensely useful, you could use it to see through invisibility spells by sensing the body heat of a human!"

"I probably could, or I can just find a snake that has full infrared vision and learn to transform my eyes into theirs. Parselmagic is unrestricted like normal casting, because there has been no regulatory body to restrict it. We're taught material that the ministry has filtered over the centuries, whereas because parseltongue was limited to Slytherin lines close enough to the main male line, no-one has ever been able to filter it. Effectively, the possibilities are endless.

Suddenly, he had a flashback to seeing the ritual of one of the books – surviving the killing curse. Draco would know far more about it, because of his family history, and could probably help Harry make more sense of what he read. Pulling a 'Draco', and not sharing his idea until necessary, he jumped over to his trunk to retrieve the third book, and opened it.

"I'm going to read a passage to you, and I need you to tell me what it's about, if you know. Ok? It's from a book I've not yet begun to study from, I've only flicked through – most of it is insanely advanced."

Reading the parseltongue into his mind, then translating it and speaking aloud for Draco's benefit, he began.

"A most delicate entity, the soul remains. Untouched it shall be unchanged for a lifetime, only revealing another past to its collection once a host passes beyond. Undesirable that this is for those who wish to remain, only our line has conquered the withering passages of decay. This ritual shall be undertaken lest one wishes to pass in peace." Looking at Draco now, he spoke again, this time not reading from the book. "Understand that?"

Silent for a minute, he then nodded. "I think I do. Since you've not told me anything about this book, including its title, I can only guess – I think it's about death. It refers to death – 'withering passages of decay' – but i'm sure that's what it is. 'Undertaken lest one wishes to pass in peace'... That sounds like something you'd do to stop yourself dying, but that's impossible, however something earlier...'Undesirable that this is for those who wish to remain, only our line has conquered the withering passages of decay'..."

He fell silent again, and for longer this time.

When he did finally speak again, it was a quiet whisper, but one that carried across the room easily, not unlike Professor Snape's typical voice. "It's about surviving death. Isn't it. I know it is. No-one has ever managed to survive death, but you're implying your line – the Slytherin line – has found a way."

Harry was impressed. Draco really was an intelligent person for his age. The book wasn't particularly clear, and they were still young. "You're right. It is. I can tell you what the book is called, I guess. It's named 'Of Death, Of the soul, and of immortality.' And the contents are as you'd expect, with some odd additions like what appears to be healing magic of sorts. The name of the ritual is something I've never heard of or seen in any other book – a Horcrux. Recognise it?"

Draco just shook his head. "Why would I, if it's a parseltongue thing."

Well, that stumped Harry. Perhaps the elder Malfoy's would know something, though how he'd get it out of them was a complete mystery.

"So, " Draco broke the silence, "what else is in there? Anything we can do now?"

Despite an incorrect pronoun - after all Draco couldn't do anything from any parselmagic book – Harry shook his head. His original intention of hiding that book away for a few years remained true, and he placed it back into his trunk.

"Enough of that anyway, we've got classes tomorrow, we should go over the basic stuff for the main classes, you know, in case we have them first thing Monday." Harry suggested.

This was more Draco's element. He'd practiced casting at home many times at the urging of his parents and family friends. No real magical child waited until Hogwarts to cast magic, it was like trying to stop a child sneaking a look into Christmas presents!

Bursting into action, Draco started up. "Right, so... Say charms, transfiguration and defence, they're the most practical subjects! I know what you do in each of the classes for the first few lessons, my Mother told me. Charms is 'wingardium leviosa', a basic levitation spell. McGonagall's is just a matchstick into a needle and back, although most of these idiots won't be able to do either in the first lesson. Defence... Usually they set you on 'reducto', simply because it's the most basic type of magic and at this point no-one can put enough power into it to do more than scratch wood."

He stopped, considerate for a few seconds, then whipped his wand out. Digging around into his trunk, he was mumbling to himself. "No matchstick... but a needle will suffice for now..."

Placing the needle onto Harry's bed, while Harry watched intently, he incanted 'wingardium leviosa' and sure enough the needle rose. Dropping his concentration, and thus dropping the needle, he prompted Harry to try.

"Wingardium Le – " and the needle was in the air. Draco actually looked surprised, but they both knew at this point not to be. Harry had demonstrated his ability in casting already, albeit in parselmagic, but this was multiple degrees easier and it showed. Draco was onto it already.

"Harry, you don't need to speak! All the work on parselmagic has clearly made you good enough at visualizing your intent that you don't need the words! It's called silent casting and it's a skill most people can't do until they're much older! Of course... You might only be able to do simple spells silently at the moment too. Try it!"

Sure enough, without saying a word and staring unreservedly at the needle it rose into the air, no less or slower than it did when he'd spoke the words. Fantastic!

"Yeah yeah, ok, show off!" Draco burst out, causing Harry to drop the needle as he had earlier. They both knew Draco wasn't envious, it was just playful banter, and Draco was far too good at this easy stuff to be jealous yet. "Next up, transfiguration. Should be a bit harder, but I can do it and that means you'll easily manage. The incantation is simple, since you only ever focus on the object you desire, not the object you have. It's 'muto matchstick'. The thing everyone fails on is their intent, willing the needle to become a matchstick, because it's intent that focuses magic, it's all really interesting!"

Draco was a huge academic, and Harry was glad for the competition. It meant he'd have someone to challenge him throughout Hogwarts, and he'd be sure to make acquaintances with others of high level intellect, most likely Ravenclaws. Being held back by the masses was not his intention, he and those worthy would learn at their own pace, he'd make sure of that.

Clearly enough, Harry could also do the transfiguration without uttering a word. Draco had to speak the incantation, but he was calm and collected and obviously found it beneath him. At this point, Draco was gleaming. He'd dreamt of having someone his level with him to push ahead and be better than the rest. Being a Malfoy wasn't all ponce and attitude, one had to be worthy of it, and he intended to be more than just worthy, he wanted to push the boundaries, just like Harry. It still amazed him that he'd be spending the next seven years with a true Slytherin heir at his side.

"Ok, what did you say was the defence spell? 'Reducto' right? Never tried this one, bit dangerous to try at the inn I was staying for obvious reasons!" he laughed.

No surprises, he could cast it without a word. The odd part however, was the strength of the spell. Previously, Draco hadn't really known that Harry's magical core was already stronger than normal, partly due to heritage and partly his training in parseltongue, but the hole in their wall was testament to it. Draco had puzzled out how Harry was able to damage the castle despite warding in place to stop such happening – he was recognised by the castle as a friend. The wards didn't restrict him, and they'd eventually realised this was the second time. He had caused the Slytherin common room door to open without a password, something which was blocked by – you guessed it – a ward.

The Sunday passed in a haze of talking more with their house, magic in their shared, private room and exploring the castle, while memorising the paths to each classroom.

The sun was peeking from behind the mountainous horizon come Monday morning, and it looked set to be an amazing, warm day – a rare sight in northern Scotland. Everyone was buzzing, the first day of classes. For the first years it was the first time practicing magic at Hogwarts and for the older years it meant more advanced magic than last year, everyone was happy. The Slytherin groups started leaving for the great hall, and Draco was waiting on the sofas, with Tracey, for Harry and Daphne. Tracey was a no-nonsense type who'd happily go to breakfast with minimal effort, but Daphne wouldn't be seen dead without straightened hair and pressed robes.

Perhaps not as excited as the other first years that had been sent to Hogwarts' other three houses, many of which would have done no magic whatsoever yet, Draco was contemplating his potential teachers. Of course, teaching a class was much more demanding and less effective than the one-to-one tutoring he'd come to expect from his parents and others, so he knew the first term – or even year – would be a breeze. Still, classes had to be at least some fun right?

"Finally, what took you two so long?" he moaned, as Harry and Daphne appeared on the stairs... At the same time.

Harry looked round at the almost deserted common room and realised they were actually a little behind schedule. "I finished getting ready and went to collect Daphne – Problem?"

Draco snorted. "I didn't realise Daphne needed assistance reaching the common room. Treacherous hallway, fraught with danger unthinkable for such a damsel!"

Harry just smirked at his flair and joined Draco and Tracey in leaving for the hall. He'd taken a little longer on his uniform than most did. Indeed, half the first years looked like they'd taken it from their trunks and thrown it on regardless of how it looked. Having been forcefully dressed rough and scruffy for ten years with the Dursleys Harry was conscious of how he appeared now.

Breakfast consisted of a slice of toast. Nerves didn't bode well for eating and despite his successes with magic so far, first day of classes – magic in front of other people and being judged and watched – was a different matter. He thought back to the advice Esurio had given him during a fleeting moment this morning.

Esurio had hardly been seen lately, which Harry had figured was for two reasons. First, the forest teeming with food for the snake, who Harry could swear was getting heavier. Secondly, to avoid too many questions. Sure, the majority of Slytherin knew he had a snake familiar, but the common phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' applied perfectly and made life a little easier for Harry.

In one small moment that Esurio had returned – checking in with Harry, as the snake had made a habit of doing – he'd realised that Harry was nervous and given a small motivational speech, which was largely bollocks. It consisted of about six different ways of saying 'You're a parselmouth, you're better than all of them' or 'You're a Slytherin, you're better than all of them,' which was fantastic for making Harry laugh, and absolutely useless for settling nerves. Surely being a Slytherin simply made the expectations even higher!

First years had eight classes, each taking either a morning or an afternoon, resulting in a total of three full days and one half day, and of course Astronomy not being in the timetable due to taking place at midnight on one day a week. Harry had it easy. Monday, Wednesday and Friday were full, with Tuesday afternoon free and all day Thursday off. Astronomy on a Wednesday evening.

Monday was Defence and Charms, in that order. What a breeze, and looking at Draco –and then around the table – it seemed the rest of the first year Slytherins agreed. Excluding Harry, the others in their group had all had tutoring for at least a year and would breeze it, and Draco wasn't worried about Harry's lack of experience – he was above them all already.

"W-w-welcome t-to defence against t-the dark arts," Quirrell stuttered out. It'd taken one glance and one famous smirk between Harry and Draco to decide that the man was totally useless, but they took seats on the left side of the room towards the back anyway. Walking out of a class on your first day wasn't the fastest way to the headmaster's office, but it was up near the top of the list! "T-today we'll j-j-just be learning a b-basic charm... 'Reducto'. N-now, that's the incantation, a-and there is targets a-around the w-walls. Give it a g-g-go!"

Damn, Harry thought. Seven years of that stupid stutter? Magic could cure stutters in an instant, what kind of fool would keep it?

Harry and Draco took turns blasting other people's reducto targets and purposefully missing, which usually earned them a personal five minute lesson on aiming your wand from Quirrell, which was five minutes of torturous stuttering you couldn't get away from. Draco was clutching his ribs in agony after laughing too much, he'd taken to bullying a red head from Gryffindor and Quirrell was now laying into the idiot for missing four times in a row from just ten feet away; each one of course being Draco's fault. The idiotic teacher never noticed them creeping behind Weasley and firing the spell silently!

Draco was ecstatic at his progress. At seeing Harry cast silently last night, he'd wanted to get the basics in silence and he'd managed it. Who knew that annoying other people could help your silent casting training!

Two gruelling hours later the class was over, and Harry was grumbling to Daphne about the wasted time. First day and first lesson in Hogwarts and they'd spent two whole hours aiming at a target the size of a world-class pumpkin that was entirely stationary. I know we're young, Harry thought, but we're not quite retarded!

"Harry," Draco addressed over the table, "charms this afternoon right? We're gonna do the same thing, it'll be hilarious and I can do leviosa silently now too. We'll sit together right at the back so we can see the whole class and just levitate stuff everywhere, ok?"

Harry smirked, affirming their plan. If you weren't learning one might as well have fun, and if you really wanted to push for an educational conclusion you could say they were still practising and perfecting magic in some form.

Charms was a riot. They'd let Tracey and Daphne in on the plot, although the two girls couldn't cast silently at all. They'd still enjoyed watching the havoc. Flitwick had distributed feathers to everyone in the room, of which both Harry and Draco silently levitated theirs immediately, then dropped them, given each other 'the smirk' and turned to survey the class.

"Ok, " Draco said. "Watch this – look at McMillan." Ernie McMillan was a Hufflepuff, who'd boasted for everyone to hear about how talented he was at breakfast that morning, which was presumably why Draco had targeted him first. Draco simply looked at Ernie's feather, pointed his wand discreetly and the feather levitated all the way to the ceiling...And stayed there. The spell required absolutely minimum effort to maintain, and Draco was clearly the stronger wizard of them, since McMillan couldn't get his feather down or around or anything. As Flitwick walked forward to bring it down, Draco released the spell, which just made Ernie look incompetent as Flitwick levitated it down softly. Everyone was sniggering at what they perceived were his empty boasts from earlier.

"Ok," Harry whispered, "my turn." Scanning the class, he chose the buck-toothed girl, who had successfully levitated her feather and was now bossing her housemates around. He'd heard the Weasley boy command her to 'do it again if you're so good at it,' which was a perfect opening. Keeping his wand by his leg, to the side and bottom of his desk, he applied the spell, but instead of levitating it, he just held it still. Unless Curlygirl was magically stronger than him – hah, don't jest, he'd thought – then her attempts to levitate it wouldn't do a thing, since the feather was under his control!

Draco was blowing his top laughing. Bucky had failed about six times before deciding the feather was actually inefficient for levitation! What kind of bollocks was that? Redhead and his pets were openly laughing at the girl now, and she was on the verge of tears. For the slightest second, Harry felt a modicum of guilt before realising – hey, she's a no-one, what does her success in the simplest spell matter anyway. Everyone masters the spell within the day, who cares.

"Harry!" Draco nudged him across the small isle. "Let's go for the ultimate prize – Flitwick! Here's what we do. We're not strong enough to command his feather if he does it, but we can mess with his feather making it look like poor spellwork, so when I say three two one command the feather to move around, wobble or vibrate or something. The combination of both our spells will make it look like a total inability to control the spell!" Draco was gleaming again. His penchant for causing other people misery was only second to learning, and since they couldn't learn... This'd have to do!

On the countdown, both Harry and Draco cast silently towards the feather Flitwick was floating round the room. True enough, the feather went haywire and everyone instantly begun to whisper between themselves. Draco was right, it really did look like Flitwick – a charms master – was struggling to levitate a feather and maintain the spell! Sharing a grin, they both let their spells drop, the damage was done. They just didn't realise how much.

After dismissing the class, the half-goblin tutor had retreated to his office and begun to levitate light objects, to complete success. What had made him struggle with that feather, he'd wondered? Was his magical strength waning? He'd never heard of an individual losing magic, that was absurd, but what other explanation could there be for struggling to maintain a simple levitation? He'd have to speak to Dumbledore in the morning, perhaps the headmaster knew something.

Not once did he even suspect that a first year could possibly challenge his active control of a spell. Would Dumbledore consider it?

* * *

Just a few answers to some reviews (thanks for those btw guys!)

* Had a few people asking about Voldemort and Harry's backstory regarding Potters and Slytherins. It's a mystery so far, perhaps you'll find out in time.

* It's not going to be slash. Very few slash relationships **add **to a story, and relationships for the sake of relationships isn't cool. I can't stand seeing dark Harry then going to his boyfriend and being fluffy, it's nuts. In fact, in all the time i've been reading fanfic, only one story (and it's sequel) has ever IMO done a slash relationship + dark Harry right, and that's The Black Heir and Vindico Atrum(the sequel to Black Heir).

* Regarding the 'dark' part. They're eleven, don't forget that. This chapter had some small hints towards Harry's attitude, so it's coming. We're still only on first day of first year, patience!

R+R please! School has started, Draco and Harry are becoming fast friends already and they're ahead of their classmates by a mile! What's going to happen? What do you want to see happen? Let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

The first week had passed much as one might predict. Slowly. Each class had consisted of the most basic spell of each school of magic. By now, all the Slytherins had managed everything and from talk in the hall, the Ravens had too. Half the 'puffs were being assigned extra homework for not being able to levitate a feather and half the Gryffs were under Quirell's watchful eye for aiming that suggested brain malfunctions, thanks to Draco.

It appeared professors selectively gave homework. By the end of the week, they'd enough evidence to suggest that doing much better than expected in class meant you'd be excluded from the homework assignment, which more often than not was simply an extension of the classwork – designed to assist or expand on it, and almost never to add to it. Due to lack of homework for both Harry and Draco, they'd spent more time flicking through TTC. Draco, despite not being able to actually cast any of it, was an extremely supportive character in pursuit of magical knowledge. He was getting something out of the bargain though, the time Harry spent training Parselmagic Draco often spent casting the latest spells, or spells intended for upcoming lessons. He'd quickly emerged as one of the smartest and more powerful of the first years, which he was ecstatic about. Harry could understand why, but had learnt that sometimes holding back and standing in the proverbial shadow was more ideal, depending on purpose.

Of all the lessons, only Transfiguration had differed much, due to the professor. She had obviously favoured her own house, the Gryffindors, which Harry thought was only fair – Anyone could see Snape's favouritism. She'd originally placed the homework assignment on their desk, which had annoyed Harry no end considering he'd transformed the matchstick/needle with ease multiple times, and the homework was only theory that anyone could read in their standard issued books. Thankfully, the old witch had excused them from it as they left – her favouritism was clear, but she was fair beyond that.

They were sat in the great hall Saturday evening, talking within their group. For the first time, Esurio had joined Harry for the meal, and was attracting stares from all over the hall, even the professors were failing to hide their interest. Far from any purpose to accompanying his master, it turned out the snake simply wanted their food!

"_Some of that, Speaker. The dish next to the blond's." _Esurio hissed. He was being incredibly bossy about what he wanted to try.

"_Yes, boss! Anything else Sir?!" _Harry teased back.

"_Oh be quiet Speaker," _the snake replied, with a humorous tone evident in his sibilant tones, _"most of this tastes like rot, once I figure out what I like you'll only need to get me that each time I feed here. Besides, you know we snakes only eat because we must do, not because we like the taste – that is a silly human notion."_

Harry just laughed, prompting Draco to raise an enquiring eyebrow.

"He's just being stupid Draco, nothing serious. He said snakes don't care for taste and only eat for necessity, but he's ordering me to fetch him different dishes which clearly invalidates the fact snakes don't eat for taste!"

"Hah, have him try the roast duck. Almost everyone here has said its fantastic, the best dish on offer. Surely he'll want it all the time once he's tried it!"

Great idea, Harry thought. Would prove the infernal snake wrong on the taste thing too. _"This is roasted Duck, Esurio. You'll have never tried this, I doubt you could catch a duck before it flew off. Tell me what you think, and don't lie!"_

He just hissed an unintelligible noise. He'd a habit of doing that whenever he didn't get his own way – a kind of personality quirk – and true to form, the girls thought it was 'cute'!

Esurio was wasting no time devouring the cut of duck that Harry had lifted to his shoulder, and he proceeded to thump onto the table, slither _between_ the dishes to the whole duck from which his housemates were cutting from and quickly elongate his jaw to begin digesting the whole thing! Harry and Draco didn't know what to laugh at – the 'Claws staring in abject horror from the next table, the sight of a four-foot long snake lying between the dishes or the entire duck slowly disappearing into its mouth! Sure enough, the escapades of Esurio had caught Snape's attention, who usually sat at the head table such that he could see right down the entire length of the table.

"Mr. Potter, a word, if you please." Gesturing to a side room, just behind their table. He was sneering something rotten, which Harry had taken to mean meant displeasure at his snake – who cares, he thought. No rules being broken, I can feed my familiar from the table!

In his silvery voice, snake began questioning the happenings. "Explain to me Mr. Potter, why you are letting your snake make a mockery of the Slytherin table."

"I'm sorry you think such, sir, but Esurio isn't making a mockery of anything. He has merely taken a liking to the roast duck, and in minimal effort, decided –"

"Eat it, yes. I've not a problem with that as such. I do however have a problem with your great snake lying on my meal table eating the _whole_ duck in one go. Perhaps you can understand my point of view now?"

Harry was thankful Draco had taken the time to help Harry out with Snape. Turns out the man was a stickler for straight-talk. No messing about, no rubbish, just logical thought and reason. Harry had also taken to understand from Snape's tone that he was not strictly against the snake – why would he be? – and was in part conducting this private talk for the benefit of the other staff and student; a show of responsibility of sorts.

"I'll stop him doing it again sir. I have every intention of bringing him to mealtimes though, I know there is no rule against doing so. You are ok with that?" Harry asked, tentatively. The question could have been asked a little more deferentially, but he'd not planned on backing out of this one and so he'd phrased it a little more forceful than could be considered polite!

Harry returned to the great hall; more staring. Had any first year ever been stared at as much as he had? Doubtful.

Draco had seemingly left the hall having finished his food, but Daphne and Tracey had waited, both with inquiring looks.

"Snape wasn't overly impressed with Esurio's dining habits..." Harry said with a sheepish look at the pair. They both just broke out laughing.

Daphne had also taken the chance to lecture Harry on his social habitual faults! "Come on, snaketooth, Esurio left with Draco, they've headed back to the common room. Draco wanted to do some more studying, no idea what he's go to do since he was excused from homework just as you were, so you're staying in the common room with us!"

"You realise," Tracey began, "that you and Draco are easily the least sociable of the younger Slytherins? Even most of second and third years spend more time in the common room than you two! Daph's right, you're staying with us for a bit."

Looking back on it, Harry realised outside of class time and meals that he didn't really spend a lot of time with the others. Perhaps a little more Raven in him than previously thought, because the prospect of learning more parselmagic – or any magic in general – always seemed more exciting than mindless chat in the common area, although he wasn't strictly opposed to it providing it was just their small group.

"So, what did Snape want?" Draco barked, the instant they passed the Slytherin entrance – which was still opening sans password for Harry.

Urggghhhh, Harry thought. That drew half the common room's attention to his and Draco's conversation. Not cool.

"Not much. Esurio's dining skills are lacking."

"_Stupid human, that man knows how a snake must eat and still he persists in challenging it." _Esurio hissed, from the arm of Draco's chair, before slithering to Harry's side and up to his shoulder. Of course, in present company Harry couldn't answer so he just laughed, stroking Esurio's smooth scales.

The Slytherins on the whole had started to become used to having a snake amongst them. Most had realised by now that the snake ignored ninety percent of the house totally, appearing to only recognise Malfoy, Greengrass and to a small extent Davis. It'd also been spotted resting with a prefect earlier in the week, before leaving just before breakfast had started.

"So," Draco interrupted the silence, "want to press ahead with the defence boo – "

"No!"

"Oh Greengrass, you should know it's important to keep ahead of the workload. I'm sure your father was the same in school." Draco moaned.

"You're staying here, Flint is working out the Quidditch team for Slytherin, and predicting the other houses' teams. You'll want in on it next year, so show some interest now!"

"What makes you think I want to play Quidditch while I'm here anyway? Dreadful waste of time that could be spent learning more useful magic!"

Daph just looked at Tracey with an exasperated smile, letting Davis answer for her. "Oh come on Draco, you take any and every chance to show off that presents itself to you, you're as vain as they come!" which had everyone nearby that'd heard laughing at Draco's sputtering.

Harry just thought it was stupid how much Draco cared for his appearance. Looking smart as school was to be expected, but looking like a typical member of the royal family for care of magical creatures was... a little too pompous! Being raised as he was though, the blame wasn't squarely Draco's.

Monday morning, and the second week of classes. Most people had their timetables committed to memory now, and there was no late students to the base classes, which made it feel like they'd been here ages and this was routine, which creeped Harry out a bit. To be so comfortable somewhere so soon, especially for a bunch of eleven year olds who'd just left home for the first time, was a bit... odd. No doubt magic helping us feel more at ease, no doubt, he'd thought.

Quirell stuttered just as heavily as ever, but he soldiered on with the defence book anyway. Harry had always been a smart person throughout infant school in Surrey, but this teacher was borderline useless. They could teach themselves from the book, a tutor to guide them through linear exercises was a little unnecessary – though half the class seemed to need it.

Starting on 'protego' now, the class had been instructed to face the same targets from last week which were now charmed to fire hair-changing spells, with the objective to block them every ten seconds. In terms of magical strength required, protego was variable based on the spell you intended to block, the book had read, and for these hair colour things you could fall asleep and block it, so the lesson quickly descended into boredom for the more talented.

Harry and Draco were at the back of the room, plotting how to disrupt the lesson – not as easy as the previous week, but possible.

"I've got a better idea. Walk behind the targets along the wall as if trying to get to the professor's desk, and just silently fire the most powerful stinging hex at people as you walk. If you hold your wand down at your side no-one will notice, since this lot probably haven't heard of silent casting."

"Urgh Draco. That means i'll actually have to go to his desk, what the hell am I supposed to say then? 'Professor, I can't do a basic shield charm, help me?' No thanks, his stutter is bad enough. I have a far better idea. Next week he intends to have us firing reducto at each other, with the partner blocking with protego. There is still over an hour left, so you –"

"Why me? You go!" Draco interrupted.

"... So you are going to go to Quirrell and act like a posh little pompous prince and ask to start that now with me. We'll move behind the targets to be out of the way, and we can _both_ fire stinging hexes at people. He's moving around, he'll never see it."

A few seconds of silence, and Draco smirked at Harry, having concluded the pros outweigh the one con of having to listen to that stutter, and so he got the affirmation from Quirrell and they headed to the back, behind the line of targets. These boards immediately in front were in use by Slytherins, who'd not be targeted. They did however offer a fantastic cover from being seen as they launched stinging hexes at people. Fortunately, Draco had taught Harry a slight variation that stung the central nervous system rather than the area it hit, which would have given away their position instantly. Harry had switched off during the biology lesson about the spell, and back on when Draco actually taught him it!

"Ok, i'm going for McMillan again, he's still boasting like an idiot despite being totally mediocre in everything. Watch!"

Draco faced Harry, and aimed his wand to Harry's left. "Stimulus centralis minima!" he whispered, having not quite managed the spell silently just yet. Having researched the subject, silent casting was supposedly very difficult, but Harry and Draco had debunked that and decided it was as equally difficult as the spell you intended to cast. Basically, being powerful enough for the relative spell and having the intent was enough; you didn't need to be Merlin the second to silently cast 'lumos'.

Sure enough, McMillan let out a burst. "That thing just shocked me! Professor! Professor Quirrell?! That target just fired something at me that hurt!"

Harry was in stitches, and Draco wasn't faring much better. Annoying these idiots was easily the most fun thing about Hogwarts so far. Looking back, he could see why Dudley had loved to bully him, in that situation he was the weaker and Dudley proved it. That was all he was doing now. McMillan was bordering on tears, either because Draco had put more into the spell than necessary or at his embarrassment at having Quirrell check the target and declare it did not fire anything but a hair colour change at him – proven also by his shocking purple locks.

"Get him again Draco –"

"Ok, watch," Draco replied, raising his wand.

"No! Wait! Let Quirrell go back to that 'Puff over there, she can't even get a basic shield. Once he's gone then do it. It'll make McMillan look ridiculous."

Sure enough, Ernie had jumped in shock. Draco had timed it perfectly, such that when his target was hit by the colour-changer – which had turned his robes pink this time – he was also hit by the stinging hex. Ernie was now totally convinced that the target was stinging him; what an idiot, thought Harry. In his opinion, it was obvious someone else was doing it, and since Draco and he were the only ones doing something other than shielding, then someone should have noticed at least! They don't even think about it, they just assume what is right in front of their eyes is correct, Harry thought dully.

"Ok, my turn. The redheaded baboon over there." Defence was truly the best class for this, being one of the core classes they were not separated by house – all four houses had the same lesson at the same time for core classes – which to Harry and Draco simply meant more varied targets!

"Errr... Harry." Draco began, quietly. "Watch it with the spell. I know you can cast it silently, but don't overpower it, or someone might get suspicious, ok?"

Bit of a wierd warning from Draco, so he just shrugged it aside. 'Stimulus centralis minima!' he thought, discreetly aiming his wand at the baboon.

"Argh!" The Gryffindor exclaimed, falling to the floor clutching his chest. Harry hadn't even bothered timing it with the target's spell, he'd just fired when he was ready to, and still no-one was any wiser. Stinging hexes were typically an almost-instant small bulb that shot through the air, and usually either invisible or light grey in colour, which meant in this dim room no-one would have a chance in hell of seeing it.

What had concerned him – nothing to do with the monkey he'd hit – was the effect of the spell with the 'minima' parameter. A lot of basic spells had 'minima' and 'maxima' options, that took little extra practise and instructed your magic on the strength of the spell. Despite using the minimal version, his spell was clearly much more powerful – as powerful as he'd wanted to fire it at the idiot – which suggested something more important at work. Clearly, base intent mattered more than spoken instruction. His magic had reacted how he'd wanted it to and nothing less, despite being told to otherwise. That also suggested that for those who did use minima and maxima in their spells that they were simply too stupid to realise that base intent mattered far more, and was far more flexible in need. Why bother learning potentially useless parameters for many spells when a wizard of strong enough intent and magical strength could wield his spells exactly how he wanted them? And yet Hogwarts seemed content to teach such parameters in later years; he'd heard a prefect from fifth year using lumos maxima in the dungeons.

Definitely something he wanted to look into with Draco later. No doubt they'll be homework-free again, so he'd have time to do so that very night.

Later on in the evening, Harry, Daphne and Tracey had the small, comfortable sofa in the common room, and were discussing their thoughts of the first week while waiting for Draco. Harry had no intention of hanging around once he arrived of course, the 'strength' of a spell was still bugging him from the morning lesson.

"So Harry, you've become the teacher's pet in most lessons, your magic just does it all with ease doesn't it… Anything else you're good at that you haven't told us?" Tracey asked.

Harry's mind whizzed at that. He felt like saying 'yeah, I'm really good at parselmagic too' and just watch the reactions, but inwardly he recognized that was not an ideal answer. As it had come to the end of the week, more and more people were clearly of the impression that the snake being his familiar was simply co-incidence.

"Did I ever tell you I can cook?" he replied slyly, looking Tracey directly in the eyes.

"Ooooh, that's a skill that'll come in handy in a few years! My father wooed my mother with his fantastic cooking, shame the house elf does –"

"Yes yes, fantastic, but Harry and I have work to do, don't we Harry" Draco interrupted as he strolled towards the sofas, but clearly not intending to sit down.

Harry was glad for the interruption, he got along with the two girls fine but his mind was elsewhere right now. Draco knew what he was thinking about before he'd even cast the stinging hex this morning, he'd issued that cryptic warning.

"So, what's the problem? You've looked…Bothered… Since you left the hall earlier." Draco began, as they headed to the dorm room.

"I'm positive I'm onto something here. Why do 'maxima' and 'minima' parameters exist for thousands of spells when they're completely unnecessary? I can cast a spell exactly how I want it, weak, strong or somewhere in-between without the use of either of those. You warned me about this before I cast, which confirms that it's not unheard of and that it can be done by others. What if it can be done by _anyone_?"

At this, Esurio cut in – _"Speaker, you are right. The power of a spell has always been dependant on intent, not adding more words. I mentioned ministry restrictions over the summer months, and this is one of them. Having the wizarding population dependant on words over intent weakens them progressively. After generations pass, the children simply lose the ability to direct their magic with intent and rely with absolute precision on words. You'll find students here now that cannot adjust their magical strength through thought alone – they'll use minima and maxima, since that is the only way for them. I also suspect that this topic is covered in one of the books you acquired." _At that, he slithered off to the door, likely heading to the forest for the night. He'd given Harry a lot to think about though.

"What did he say, Harry?" Draco asked, after a tense silence.

"I'm right. Power is… Was… determined by intent. Use of parameters is a ministry addition from sometime in our history. Esurio told me that reliance on them for too long creates dependence, and over time you'd lose your ability to control your magic with intent – which... yep, you've guessed it."

"I know. Weaker wizarding populations dependant on ministry-created spells and parameters. My father must know about this, there's no way he'd agree with this, and he's a strong wizard, I've seen it. And I've had some success with spell strength through intent… Learning silent casting because of you doing it is probably the reason, even though it's far more difficult for me than you… Is that all he said?"

"No, but the last bit wasn't as helpful. He just thinks there will be more on this in one of the books I got this summer, and I know which one. The only problem is, I flicked through it a few times after buying it and it's all crazy stuff, I didn't understand any of it. The book is called 'Ruling The Dynastry Of Wizardry' and you better not tell anyone anything about it, as far as I can tell it's considered the only copy of the book and long thought lost. The first few chapters seemingly deal with self-improvement, things like magical power, rituals and stuff. Later on it's about ruling empires and other weird crap that would be useless in these times."

"I see, but that doesn't mean we're helpless right? You started silent casting despite having no tutor for it, and I've even had some success with basic spells. We should just carry on – make sure _we_ aren't dependant on ministry-regulated parameters and spells. You've got an even bigger advantage with parseltongue. You know, the more we read into this and parseltongue the more convinced I get that you could rule our world eventually. The things you can do even now are immense, massively impressive things. Those eyes... remember? If you grow into your full potential, you could be as well known as the first Slytherin patriarch..."

Of course Draco would think about that. He'd been brought up along a male-dominated bloodline in which the heir was the most important thing to the family. Living up to expectations was his sole goal in life, at least until he took control of the family. These trivial matters had been explained in the Founders book he got from Blotts months ago that'd barely been touched since the day he opened it – total bore of a book.

"Well, I've had enough of all this for now, I'm tired. You know, I thought these timetables were easy when we first got them, but two three hour lessons a day using magic soon gets tiring right?" Rhetorical though the question was, Draco nodded in agreement.

"Draco. Why do I feel too young for all this? I imagined coming here and enjoying learning magic and making friends, playing Quidditch, and acing homework assignments. Instead I've joined a school that caters for the mediocre, moves at snail's pace and excuses brilliance with 'you don't need to do the homework'..."

Draco considered that for a while. Fortunately due to his family being the way they were, he knew the answer to some degree. "Well, had you lived with your real family you wouldn't know any of this. You wouldn't have those books either, you'd have gotten them much older, perhaps even when you came of age at seventeen. Having them now is an advantage though, don't think otherwise. Sure, they're difficult, but you're working on them and making progress at least. Also... I think if you'd been brought up by the Slytherin line you'd not have attended Hogwarts. It's much changed since the days of the founders, and I think Durmstrang is much closer to Salazar Slytherin's vision for a school."

They were both lying on their beds now, both looking at the enchanted ceiling, that much like the great hall showed the night sky. Harry certainly didn't regret choosing Hogwarts over Durmstrang, no matter what Draco thought he would have done would his circumstances have been different. Hogwarts felt like home already, it just didn't feel like _enough_. The classes were poor, the library was pretty much ministry-processed stuff, the restricted section was just that – restricted. All he had was his parseltongue books and Draco to talk with and bounce ideas off.

As of that moment, barely a week into Hogwarts, he made what would eventually become a life-changing decision. Mediocrity was not enough, for him or for anyone. If he had the chance and the power to change it – he would; starting with him and Draco. He could continue casting silently and make others aware of that ability. Surely they'd be jealous, and jealousy is a great motivation to do better, he thought. He could show off his magical strength, they couldn't connect that with his real heritage. They'd aspire to be like him, magically powerful. Everyone looked up to the headmaster for the same reason, didn't they?


	12. Chapter 12

Defence class was the first 'exhibition of excellence', as Harry had come to call it. Holding back to fit in was just not a good idea, even Draco had agreed in the end. All the most powerful wizards of the ages past had been very public figures, often leaders and frontrunners. Harry wanted the respect of his classmates. He'd craved to be recognised as an intelligent child by his teachers back in infant school, but Dudley and his parents had made it clear that was a bad idea. Here, with no such pressures he knew he could do it all.

"W-w-welcome c-class! We w-will take the l-last two wee-weeks lessons and j-join them today. You-you all know w-what to do, c-carry on!".

God that stutter annoyed him, Harry thought. Listening to that for the next seven years was a dire prospect indeed, but at least he was good at this stuff and Quirrell had no reason to speak to him – he spent more time with the under-performing students. Draco had been right about this week's lesson – joining 'protego' and 'reducto' practice into an exercise, firing reducto at your partner, who was casting protego in defence. Nothing particularly difficult for Harry nor Draco, and they knew it.

"Ok, might as well give this a shot Harry, you start with reducto, I'll go defender first," Draco said. They took their places at the back of the room as usual and went ahead with it. Draco had seen first-hand that Harry's spells were particularly powerful, but this was eye-opening. A single reducto would shatter Draco's shield instantly – and Harry was still casting silently. Three rounds later, Draco had had enough.

"Ok, ok, that's enough, I get it, you can cast reducto! Swap over, I want to see if I can break your shield," he panted. Defending against a strong caster was exhausting, especially this early in magical education. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry had been thinking of an idea related to last week's fun – reflecting Draco's reducto into someone else while Quirrell wasn't looking!

Not having been taught a shield capable of such a task, Harry had to improvise – parselmagic was ever so useful! Still not wanting his parseltongue spread around the whole school, they swapped places – Harry now against the back wall, and Draco further into the center of the room – and Draco let loose with his strongest spell, trying to remember what Harry had learnt about intent over words. The result was a belly of laughs in itself. Harry had whispered something in parseltongue quiet enough that none of the class heard a thing, and Draco's spell had ricocheted out – right at Quirrell himself.

Harry quickly turned away, hiding his outburst of laughter, and Draco moved in away from the class, holding his ribs with one hand and clamping his mouth shut with the other.

Between laughs, Harry spoke, "What a joke of a defence teacher. Hit by a spell in the back from a first year and he looks like he's just seen Esurio face-to-face! We've got to do this again Draco, and I'll aim at others! I need you to master casting this silently, so they can't relate the surprise hits with our casting!"

"Alright, I can do it. Give me a minute though, yeah? I need to get this out of my head and concentrate."

Sure enough, Harry had managed to deflect the reducto into their favourite target – one Ernie MacMillan – without the notice of anyone. He'd jumped up and yelped, causing Quirrell to think he'd been struggling with casting protego, and assign him extra homework and a 1 hour detention to practice in! That was an outcome beyond their imaginations, and as the bell rang Draco and Harry rushed out in bits.

Harry understood that messing about in class was fine – providing he knew the material and was capable of doing the practicals to a higher standard than expected of the first years. To that end, before dinner that evening, Harry and Draco were in the library looking at spell theory books that discussed spell parameters – particularly minima and maxima. It was with their heads three inches from the pages that Professor Snape found them.

The potions tutor knew the boys were good, during that week's teacher conference Quirrell had stuttered his way through glowing praise about the boy's speed in grasping the early techniques, but he hadn't realised they were looking at fifth year material in their third week at Hogwarts! Snape just added it to his growing list of concerns. Last week one of his Prefects had come to him with a concern about the common room door being faulty. Of course, wards did not just become 'faulty', yet this door still kept sporadically opening without need of a password. None other than a Slytherin had gotten through, not for lack of trying, and he'd finally come to a solution. The door only opened sans password when one Harry Potter was in the group. He knew there was something he was missing regarding the Potter child. The hat didn't need to read his mind to sort him. The banner hissed when he sat at the Slytherin table. The door opened without a password whenever approached by Harry, or a group in which Harry was part of. The child had brought a snake – bonded familiar no less – to Hogwarts, and appeared to have a great deal of control over it, especially considering snakes couldn't speak English, Latin, or any other human language.

If it hadn't been for the sheer absurdity of a Slytherin heir being possible, Snape would have figured it out already. No-one would consider that another heir – from an even purer Slytherin line than the previous heir – was a possibility. The line had died out, everyone knew that.

Draco had mentioned letting Snape in on Harry's secret once since the welcome feast, under the same conditions as last time – magical oath of secrecy. Harry wasn't convinced yet, though he understood that as head of Slytherin house, the man would listen to a proven Slytherin heir. Draco had assured him that Snape would give them free reign within the house should be told of Harry's real parentage, but Harry was insistent on waiting for more information about the Slytherin line, and how he came to be in it, before telling anyone else. In his opinion, the rest of the Slytherin students had come too close to figuring out his secret already, and they'd only just let the matter rest.

The christmas holidays fast approached - amidst a variety of easy lessons and spells that anyone could learn from a book - and Harry had signed up to stay. He'd come to realise that the extra time to practise his spells was a great reason to stay, he wasn't just avoiding the Dursleys. He also wanted to start sending snakes out to survey the entirety of Hogwarts – this old castle had to have some secrets!

In the last lesson before the break began, transfiguration, on a freezing cold, windy day, Harry had earned twenty points for Slytherin by once again being the first to successfully transfigure the lesson's objective. His porcupine had become a pin-cushion instantly, and he'd cast it totally silently. This time, however, McGonagall had noticed.

Minerva sat at her desk contemplating silently. She'd watched the Potter child relentlessly over the term. He never failed a transfiguration, and she was positive he was either whispering or, amazingly, casting totally silently. For a first year to do either was astounding – yet she wasn't surprised. His parents were both very adept students, albeit coming into their own much later. Was it too much that he'd been instructed as a child? Others did it after-all. Still, it was something to mention at the next teacher conference. Her colleagues needed to be watching out for his silent casting too, and truly, if he was proficient in all subjects he needed to be pushed and challenged. She was never one to hold back the gifted students, they came along rarely enough as it was. She'd always been impartial regarding student's houses, and this was no exception. 'Slytherin or not, those who put more effort in deserved more effort in return, and rightly so!' she'd thought.

The bell rang, signalling freedom. Most students had packed already, the train was at nine in the morning, and no-one wanted to run around at that ungodly hour throwing stuff into their trunk. Harry was mystified. Why would they all be so eager to run home to see family when they'd only left their family 3 months prior? With all the possibilities here at Hogwarts, this was the place to be.

After a short goodbye with Draco and the others the next morning, Harry found himself completely alone. It turned out that every Slytherin went home, which he found extremely ironic – he, the only real Slytherin, was staying right at home at the school his ancient patriarch helped build.

'Well, straight to it, I guess,' he thought. No time to waste, the holidays were only two weeks. Esurio was no-where to be seen, the forbidden forest if Harry had to guess, but he didn't need his snake to practise any more. TTC was a fantastic guide in everything he sought to learn. He'd waited for the others to leave before starting the next section, titled 'Bindings', which looked to be a very large section of the book.

'_An Introduction to Binding_

_The art of binding conjured snakes to oneself has long been used to drastically extend the longevity of conjurations, along with total and utter control of the subjects. Conjured snakes bound to their summoner can hold for much increased periods of time, scaling only with the power of the sorcerer in question. One finds that concentration on the summon is also unnecessary once the snakes are bound, a big positive for more advanced tasks. A likeness has been found between the imperius curse (see pg. 98 for more) and bound snakes. _

_The founder of this art, Parasus Slytherin, was a war leader in the seventh century, and widely considered one of the most successful generals of the era. His victories are unnumbered in sheer volume, and he remained, until his death, undefeated. Survivor accounts suggest that Parasus augmented his own vast wizarding armies with large varieties of snakes in varying numbers. Foes often found themselves facing enlarged pythons, cobras, anacondas, vorpalas and perhaps most disturbingly, basilisks. The last is merely conjecture for obvious reasons, the singular occasion a strange one. One solitary tale lives regarding the 'Battle of Highmoor', and a dire account it is. In total, the author counted sixteen fully-matured male basilisks, and says they devoured and slaughtered the entire opposition, which he estimated at seven thousand strong. The text writes that not a single of Parasus' army fired a single spell that day. How the account came to exist is unknown, but the disappearance of General Proudmoore's army around that time period (which was known to number eight thousand strong) around that time lends it's credence. _

_It is clear then, that the strength this talent offers is phenomenal. Many Slytherin descendants have tried to learn binding, from Parasus' own son Horisus, who died after staring into the deep, yellow eyes of his first, and only, failed basilisk binding. Others have come much closer to success, including those who have used the talent to gain great prestige in duelling competitively. Ancazar Slytherin (a grandson to an unknown degree of Horisus') won four duelling competitions in a row, from nineteen-twelve to nineteen-fifteen. Of Ancazar's duelling, many validated texts exist. It's said he used a sixteen foot long female vorpala in every single duel. Highly magic resistant, perhaps more so than the basilisk, and quite possibly the fastest magical snake known to wizardkind. Indeed, Ancazar currently holds the word record for the fastest round in a recognized duelling competition – four seconds. Spectators insist that two of those were his flourishing bow, and the last two the summon and strike of his vorpala. _

_For starting techniques on Binding, read on._'

Wow. Just wow. Harry's brain was overloading. Imagine the power his ancestors held when they had lived. Four duelling competitions in a row with the same snake?! Sixteen feet long and the fastest snake known to wizards?! Harry was bursting with pride. His line, the Slytherin line, was amazing. This was the first time he really **felt** honoured to be part of it. The hissing snake at the sorting was nothing short of amazing, it had boosted his pride and courage greatly, but nothing, and he meant nothing, could match reading about his ancestors legacies. A war general with sixteen basilisks, now that sounded impressive. Horisus dying when he looked in a basilisk's eyes? He needed to read into these snakes, they sounded dangerous!

Harry had been reading for some time, when he his attention was shaken by the arrival of Esurio.

"_Speaker, the forest is a lifetime of dreams for my kind. I am the apex predator within the darkness, the sentient creatures recognise me as a familiar and stay clear, the rest scurry and hide in poor attempts to escape! Always remember, Speaker, that it wasn't you alone that escaped a different life, I too have been brought into the world to which I belong." _and with that, Esurio slithered onto the hearth in room, which was warm to the touch after the fire had burnt out, and rested his head.

The pair of them in that room at present were truly extraordinary, a thought that Dumbledore had found himself considering more and more often. Each teacher conference somehow found a way to the boy's abilities. He'd had a letter from Ollivander shortly after term started on the same subject. He'd tried and failed to find answers to the banner snake's herald at the welcome feast. James Potter, he recalled, had been a terror during his days at Hogwarts. Lily had been a treasure, lost too early. But their son? He shared similarities to a young child of five decades past, one who had also lost their parents. That one had turned out to be an heir... Could Harry Potter be an heir? Gryffindor of course. Perhaps that explained the snake hissing? Anger at Godric's heir in his house? It was all very complex, and it had gotten late. Time again to ponder this another day, thought the ageing headmaster.

"_Esurio, get up. Wake up, come on. You've been asleep all night, that's more than enough for a snake!" _Harry hissed, prodding the sleeping snake with his toes.

"_Ssssssss yesss. Speaker, what do you need?"_

"_Your assistance. You ever heard of parselmagic binding? This book has a huge section, and it looks... strong. It makes all the stuff I've learnt already look simple, put it that way, so I want your opinions as I try and work through this stuff, ok?" _Harry asked.

"_Binding... I haven't. I can infer exactly what it is about though, and you are right, the power this could give you is considerable. You recall over the warm moons conjuring snakes to complete small tasks? This is clearly an extension of that. You could, for example, conjure a task force of snakes to your exact specifications, instruct them to protect your room, and forget about them. The binding takes care of them."_

"_Yes, that's what I'd intended to try. Don't you think I'm too young for this though? It mentions some of my ancestors and they're not all glorious success stories..."_

"_Given your previous achievements in parselmagic, I'd say you'll be fine. You have the power advantage that being bonded gives you, along with your own substantial magical core. Start small as usual, it'll work. The benefits far outweigh any small risks you take." _the snake assured.

Harry knew he was right. With the sheer scale of this topic, and the possibilities, he knew starting as soon as possible was the best way, these things clearly too practise. He didn't want to end up like Horisus Slytherin anyway!

Esurio gave one last bit of advice, as Harry cleared some space._"Speaker, use your parselmagic for the initial summoning. Don't cast the snake spell you know, just summon your parselmagic and create a snake. Use that as your basis. You'll find it easier – you have a stronger bond with your parselmagic creations." _

Ok, back to the book, he thought.

'_The first steps in learning the art of binding are simple. An accomplished parselcaster will already have these techniques perfected, however for each new Slytherin heir, they are re-printed here. _

_Drawing on your parselmagic within the blood is crucial to success, and you should...'_

I don't need this stuff, it's exactly what Esurio taught me in the summer, thought Harry. Next bit...

'_Create a snake for the first bind. Use a parsel snake, they're much easier to bind than a summoned snake with serpensortia or equivalent.'_

Harry had been able to create snakes from his parselmagic for some time now. Free evenings were often spent alone in his room, with or without Draco, attempting to push his parselmagic. After pushing the power of out his palm and creating the snake, his own personal variant, he read the next chapter and repulsed at what he read.

'_Hold the snake. For larger species physical touch will suffice. Remember that these snakes are creations of your will. While unbound they will act as a snake should do so, and can be spoken to and will respond as a snake would be expected to. The binding is a simple concept – override the innate will they have, replace it with your own and allow it to draw from your power. As an extension of your will, it's power expenditure will drastically drop – a small dose from your core will keep most creations active for months._

_The battle of wills is where the importance of the creation of the snake comes into importance. A summoned snake by any spell will fight much harder, despite still being a creation of will. A parselsnake created by your own magic will barely struggle. Whilst maintaining the physical contact, push your mind forward into the being and concentrate on possession. The actual act of replacement is somewhat draining for the uninitiated, but does not last long. Success is marked by a small awareness available in your mind. This has been likened to a link between any two magical subjects, however this link is purely one way. One can rationalise this as the snake merely being an extension of the caster. _

_Your new-found control should show you some capabilities. Use your link now to test the success of your binding.'_

Harry had succeeded. He could feel the awareness that he needed. With the flicker of a thought he instructed the snake to slither up his arm and around his shoulder, and was rewarded when the snake did exactly that. No spoken instruction was necessary. The pure rush of power at that was empowering. No eleven year old boy should feel such untamed desire at such a point in their lives, it was intoxicating. Pure control over a foreign subject, a foreign mind. Harry wanted more than this basic example though. He wanted practical reasons, and deep down he knew why. Imagine the life he'd have lived at the Dursleys if he had guardian snakes the same size as Esurio. They'd have waited on him hand and foot, not the other way round.

The next plan came to Harry with ease. Creating a physical imitation of Esurio and binding that. Esurio was much bigger and heavier than the test snake, but he'd managed that first test with no issues at all, and was sure he could do this too. Indeed, Esurio had been right about our young parseltongue's magical ability at this age. Sure enough, an exact replica of Esurio had been created of parselmagic right in front of Harry.

Picking up the faux-Esurio, Harry rested his hand on the neck of the snake, closed his eyes, and pressed forwards with the possession.

Pain. Nothing could have prepared him for the snake fighting back. It felt like he'd been listening to loud music for hours, and he could feel a headache coming on. How was it that increasing the size of the snake made it so much more difficult?! Harry was no stranger to pain though, and was desperate for success, and so he pushed and pushed through.

Once again, the tiny awareness came into existence in Harry's mind. 'Attack that bed across the room, devour it until it is no longer recognisable.' The snake acted immediately. The book was right, obviously. Once a snake had been bound, which was clearly the most difficult part, then it would do anything and everything that was asked of it. The loud scraping and snapping doing nothing to help his oncoming headache, Harry watched as the huge snake broke the bed down into wooden scrap, and smirked inside.

As monumental as binding with Esurio had been, this was his first true taste of the power owed to him through the Slytherin line. And it flooded him with confidence that everything he wanted was possible. The wave of exhaustion had hit entirely, and Harry had barely the energy to drag himself up to the only bed still standing in the room before dropping off to sleep.

Esurio had remained silent and pensive during the last few minutes, but he was ecstatic inside. Such power in his master as such a young age. The snake knew little of history, or even of the large majority of wizards, but he did know that what he was looking at here was the beginnings of a conqueror. He'd seen the old, strong snakes conquer rich feeding areas, and he was seeing his master do the very same here. The snake slowly, and thus quietly, slithered out of the room and through a small, secret passage that lead out of the school.

Within the hour that Harry had spent practising binding, he'd come unknowingly close to some extremely dark subjects. Both were mentioned in the book, and it was only the naivete of age that prevented Harry from truly realising just what he was learning, and what it was a pre-requisite to. The imperius curse had been mentioned. Illegal in most countries and devastating in the right, or wrong, hands. He'd also been learning the very foundations of possession, quite possibly on of the darkest arts. That parselmouths had access to more accomplished methods of possession was of great consequence, once the young wizard reached that level.

Unfortunately, for both Harry and the school's headmaster, the school was protected by wards that gave a warning if any form of possession was occurring immediately. Such was the danger of such a skill that the alarm ward had been standing for many centuries. Had there not already been a possession within the school, then the strength of Harry's magic might not have triggered the ward. But his possession of the parselsnakes added to whatever else was happening within the school? The dark magic had been detected, and Dumbledore was awaken by a noise he hoped never to hear.

Harry's only saving grace right now was anonymity. The headmaster had no way to find out who was up to nefarious deeds, but anyone knowing the old man would know he would do anything to find out.

Apologies for the huge delay, university does that to you! I do hope to write somewhat frequently now. This is also a shorter chapter. I do have some of the next chapter written, but this just felt like a natural ending, so here it is!


End file.
